


Book of the Dragonborn III: First and Last

by NightingaleTrash



Series: Book of the Dragonborn [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon Divergence, Dragonborn DLC, Gen, mod content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-12 01:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightingaleTrash/pseuds/NightingaleTrash
Summary: When something ancient and long-forgotten stirs on Solstheim, it's up to Valkari to put a stop to it. The fate of Tamriel will be decided when the First and Last of the Dragon's Blood meet at the summit of Apocrypha, but the question isn’t who will survive, but what will become of the one who does.





	1. Cultist

_ 21st Last Seed 4E 212 _

“Another letter from one of your suitors just arrived,” Aventus declared teasingly, waving the offensive object over his head as he swaggered into the kitchen. When Valkari gave him a very dangerous look, he simply smirked and peeled it open whilst his sisters sat at the table, torn between giggling and fleeing the room as fast as they could.

“My dearest Dragonborn,” he began to read aloud. “To you I bear the deepest desires of my heart, and ask that-”

“YOL.”

He yelped as a lick of flame shot at his hand and he dropped the letter as the fire devoured it ravenously. It crumpled up on the floor, curling in on itself until only ashes remained.

“That’s enough of  _ that _ ,” Valkari growled warningly, turning back to her breakfast. “Honestly, do they think that my name is actually Dragonborn?”

“Probably,” said Runa, who was still grinning at Aventus who sat down sulkily, nursing his fingers. They weren’t burnt, but the fire had left enough of a sting. “I mean, who actually calls you by your name anymore? Aside from the guild, obviously.”

Valkari didn’t dignify her with a response. Instead  she opted to finish her meal before turning to Sofie. Only shy of eleven years old, Sofie had been orphaned in the aftermath of the civil war. Having taken pity on the young girl she’d found wandering the streets of Windhelm, Valkari took her in just a little over three years ago.

Valkari raised an eyebrow, teasing the tips of Sofie’s hair in her fingers.

“It’s starting to get a bit long again,” she mused. “It’ll need cutting again soon.”

“I could do it,” Runa offered, grinning at her younger sister.

“Absolutely not,” Valkari said bluntly. “Your idea of a hair cut is shaving half your head.”

“We’re nords mum,” Runa retorted. “Shaved heads is what we do, remember?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a nord as well, and I’ve never felt some absurd urge to shave my head,” she snorted, before turning back to Sofie. “Do you want your head shaved, Sofie?”

“No mama, I want my hair to be like yours,” she said brightly. She then blinked and quickly turned to Runa and added, “but your hair looks cool on you Runa!”

“Maybe you’ve never felt the need to shave your head because you’re not a  _ true  _ nord,” Aventus pointed out, grinning cheekily, and Runa snorted, grinning back at him.

“Okay, that was a good one,” she laughed.

Valkari just shook her head, rising to her feet.

“I’d better get going. The Mother of Hagravens has summoned me to her court,” she said in a mockingly haughty voice, reaching for her bow and quiver. “Aventus, don’t forget you promised to take Sofie to the lake today.”

“We’re going straight after breakfast,” he said, grinning. “Should be fun.”

“And not at all because he’s hoping that there’ll be girls around for him to show off in front of,” muttered Runa. Aventus made an affronted noise and Valkari shook her head.

“Just remember that you started fixing the roof purely because  _ you _ were hoping to impress some cute girls, Runa,” she said flatly, pressing a kiss to the top of Sofie and Runa’s heads and ruffling Aventus’ dark curls. “And speaking of which, you need to finish that before I get back. Understood?”

“Yes mum,” Runa groaned.

“Bye mama!” said Sofie, waving avidly as Valkari headed for the door. “Have a nice day.”

“You too Sof. And make sure you keep your brother busy, okay?”

“Don’t encourage her!” Aventus moaned, and Valkari laughed as she stepped out into the street.

Riften had recovered well from its battering back in the Dragon Crisis, and the one it had very narrowly avoided in the Civil War. It seemed that the decision to transfer the city into Imperial hands at the High Hrothgar peace council had saved the people from yet another unnecessary attack, and all it had cost was handing the Rift over to Maven Black-Briar and letting the Stormcloaks have Markarth whilst the truce lasted. Whilst Tullius seemed sure that handing the Reach to Ulfric was the mistake, Valkari was more inclined to think giving the Rift to Maven might have been a bigger one. 

The near collapse of her empire made Maven meaner than ever, and whilst she wasn’t able to order an assassination on Valkari now thanks to the new arrangement between the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood, she still went out of her way to try and make life difficult for the Dragonborn. Her granting Valkari the title of Thane of the Rift was by no means a gift - if anything, Maven’s favourite way of inconveniencing Valkari was to summon her to attend court and force her to listen to the woes of whatever peasants came forward. And it meant she had to spend her time being glared at by Mjoll, who was very vocal about her anger over a known thief being named Thane. Maven obviously got a perverse amount of pleasure from angering people she knew could never touch her.

Mistveil Keep was much the same as ever. All that really changed were the faces of the people running the place now that the Stormcloaks and Jarl Laila had been ousted. Maven sat in her throne, one leg crossed over the other and a golden circlet with onyx stones adorning her brow.

“Ah, Dragonborn,” she drawled as Valkari approached. “I was beginning to think you were going to ignore my summons.”

“And pass up the chance to bask in your presence, your Grace? Never,” Valkari replied, not minding to keep the sarcastic edge out of her voice. Something Maven didn’t fail to notice.

“You really  _ are _ quite the firebrand, aren’t you?”

“Is that on account that I can breathe fire, your Grace?”

Maven didn’t dignify that with a response. Her nostrils flared slightly as her lip curled downward, but she simply turned her gaze back over the court as the first of many hapless peasants shuffled forwards, and so began the painfully long and dull day of court.

Or so Valkari thought.

At about noon, the doors to the keep opened and two people walked in. And they were definitely no farmers.

The air seemed to shift with their arrival. Out of the corner of her eye, Valkari could see Maul had a dagger ready in his hands, and Mjoll was slowly reaching for her sword. So she wasn’t the only one who knew something was about to go very wrong.

“What is it  _ you _ want?” Maven snapped, bristling in her throne. It wasn’t easy to make Maven nervous, and yet these people made it look simple. It wasn’t hard to imagine why though. They were dressed in brown leather robes, one of the arms of which was decorated with what looked like dragon bones, and their faces were hidden behind gilded masks with spines not dissimilar to that of a dragon’s horns.

They didn’t answer Maven or even look at her. Their eyes were on Valkari.

“You there, are you the one they call Dragonborn?” one of them demanded.

Her eyes narrowed. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied coolly, jerking her head in Maul’s direction. He nodded back, carefully beginning to move around the edge of the room to try and get behind them unnoticed.

“Your lies fall on deaf, Deceiver,” the other snapped. “We know you are the False Dragonborn! You shall not stand in the way of the True Dragonborn's return. He comes soon, and we shall offer him your heart!”

“Enough,” spat Maven, turning to her guards. “Seize these fools and throw them into the dungeon!”

As the guards moved forwards, one of the cultists shouted: “When Lord Miraak appears all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!”

“IIZ SLEN NUS!”

The cultists were frozen solid in place, magical ice holding them fast. The guards leapt back just as Maul plunged his dagger into the first cultist’s back, promptly shattering them into pieces.

“That will be enough, Maul,” Maven ordered, glaring at the second cultist, who was still frozen in place. “Have the other one moved to the dungeon. He will answer our questions once he’s thawed out. Hopefully he’ll have cooled his temper by then.”

The guards nodded and ever so carefully lifted the frozen cultist and carried him out of the throne room. Valkari meanwhile crossed to the one Maul had killed, picking up part of the bone plating from the cultist’s robes. It was almost definitely dragonbone, she could feel it. Before she straightened up again, something caught her eye. A folded bit of parchment. She snatched it up and pocketed it. She’d look at that later.

“I should hope there was good reason for this interruption, Dragonborn,” Maven said coldly. “Who is this Miraak you have angered enough that he sends men to storm  _ my _ keep?”

“I have no idea,” Valkari replied honestly, even though she knew that she’d heard the name somewhere before. She just couldn’t think of where. “Whoever he is, I doubt he’ll give up after one attempt. There’ll be more coming, soon enough.”

An unsettling silence fell over the room.

“Then you’d best clean this mess up. Immediately,” Maven said sharply. “Find this Miraak and put an end to him. Fail, and no agreement with the Dark Brotherhood will protect you from me. Is that understood?”

Valkari’s jaw clenched.

“Perfectly,” she said coldly.

Without another word, she turned on heel and marched out of the keep.

Her mind was racing. How had they known where to find her? Scrying spell? It was possible. And yet her mind turned immediately to her children. If they’d hurt a single one of them to find her, then nowhere in Tamriel would be safe for this Miraak or any of his followers.

To her relief, Runa was on the roof where she should be, hammer in hand as she fixed the new tiles to the roof. If anyone strange had come by, she’d not seen them and they hadn’t seen her.

“You’re home early!” she called when she spotted Valkari, waving. “Don’t tell me you walked out on her Majesty?”

“Has anyone strange come by today?” Valkari asked, ignoring the question.

Runa frowned. “Strange? No, why?”

Again, Valkari ignored the question and headed into the house. She headed for the back door which led out onto the porch overlooking the lake. To her relief, she could see Aventus and Sofie splashing around in the shallows. It seemed they were none the wiser to the cultists arriving in Riften.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded bit of parchment.

_ Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Valkari Dragonborn before she reaches Solstheim. _

_ Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased. _

There was a thumping noise and Valkari looked up to see Runa climbing across the roof and dropping down onto the porch behind her.

“Mum, what’s going on?” she asked.

Valkari crumpled the note in her hand and leant over the porch railing.

“Aventus, Sofie, come inside. Now,” she called sternly. She held out the crumpled note. “YOL.”

The flame devoured the parchment, reducing it to ashes that were swept away in the summer breeze as she headed back into the house, Runa on her heels. A moment later, Aventus and Sofie appeared, dripping wet and confused.

“Mum, what-”

“I’m going away for a while,” she interrupted briskly, grabbing her pack off of the floor and kicking off her shoes. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but until then none of you are to leave the city. Do I make myself clear?”

“Are you going to tell us  _ why _ ?” demanded Runa, following Valkari up the stairs.

Valkari opened her wardrobe and pulled out some plain black leathers. Her Nightingale Armour was too recognisable, it would only give her away if she wore it - ironic, considering its purpose was the opposite. She didn’t need to give this Miraak any reason to believe she was already on his trail.

“It’s complicated. Some people working for a man called Miraak tried attacking the court,” she explained vaguely. “I need to find out why. If you see anyone strange, you are not to fight them. You use the basement tunnel and head straight for the guild, do you understand? I won’t have any heroics, from either of you.”

She gave both Runa and Aventus a hard look.

“Wait, you’re not taking us with you?” Runa exclaimed incredulously. “But we could help!”

“No. I don’t know exactly what I’m up against, and bringing you isn’t a risk I’m willing to take,” Valkari said firmly. “You’re not ready yet.”

“Bullshit, we’ve been training for this!” Aventus protested, scowling. “You taught us everything you know!”

“And you haven’t put it into practice against anything tougher than the average bandit,” she retorted. “You’re staying put in Riften, and that’s final. Understand?”

Aventus and Runa both scowled.

“Do you understand?” Valkari repeated forcefully.

They nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Good.” She turned to Sofie, whose lower lip was trembling. “Sof, I need you to be brave for me until I get back, okay?”

“But what if you don’t come back?” she sobbed, eyes watering.

She should have expected this. The girl’s father had been a Stormcloak and he never came home after the war ended. Then one day her mother left and never came back either. She’d lived a life of people leaving and never coming back, and now Valkari was asking her to do it again.

“Get Runa to tell you about the Dragon Crisis. No matter how bad things got, I always came home,” she said gently, stroking her hair. “The guild will help you brother and sister look after you until I do come home, okay? It just might take a while.”

She nodded and hugged Valkari, who hugged her back tightly. When they pulled apart, Sofie’s cheeks were damp and Valkari pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“That’s my girl. Now go on, I need to get ready.”

The three of them reluctantly plodded back down the stairs and Valkari paused to stick her head around the corner to shout, “and I mean it Runa! Not one foot out of Riften, or I’ll have you helping Esbern to catalogue Skyhaven Temple’s library!”

She got a loud groan in reply. Satisfied she’d made her point, she quickly changed into her leathers and began to pack.

[]

Windhelm was bustling with activity, with workers hauling stone blocks and wooden beams through the city gates and down into the Grey Quarter. It had taken years but Brunwulf had finally managed to gather the needed resources to begin the renovation of the Grey Quarter, and the nords and dunmer had been hard at work to make it happen. Valkari almost thought such cooperation was impossible after the damage Ulfric had done, but Brunwulf had a way of motivating people.

That said, there were still those who protested, as was evident when Valkari walked into the Palace of Kings.

The court was in session, and seemed to be in the middle of a trial. Rolff Stonefist stood before Brunwulf, clapped in chains and looking surlier than usual.

“Rolff Stonefist, you are charged with drunken behaviour, assault, damage of property, and attempted murder. How do you plead?” said Captain Lonely-Gale.

Rolff simply spat on the floor.

“You have nothing to say in your defense?” 

“I have nothing to say to Imperial loving dogs who drink the Empire’s milk,” he barked. “If my brother were here-”

“Your brother isn’t here, and last I checked, he was quite dead,” Valkari interrupted bluntly, all eyes turning to her. “Unless you want to end up like him, you might want to be a bit more polite.”

“A true nord doesn’t fear death,  _ Dragonborn _ ,” Rolff spat. “You are a mockery of our oldest traditions and-”

“Well then I’m glad to be a very convincing fake. I rather enjoy breathing.” She turned to Captain Lonely-Gale. “When you’re done with him, I need a word. It won’t take long.”

The steward nodded, and Valkari went to wait by the door that led to the kitchens. The other Thanes seemed rather amused at the display, though Brunwulf looked exasperated.

“Rolff Stonefist, for your crimes against the people of Windhelm and your lack of regard for the lives of others, I sentence you to death,” he declared. “Take him to the prisons and alert the headsman. I will not make a martyr out of him in a public spectacle.”

The guards nodded and marched Rolff from the room. The old drunk still held his head high, as though he were some sort of hero.

“Just you wait, Brunwulf,” he barked. “The true sons and daughters of Skyrim will not stand idly by whilst you betray us all to the Empire!”

“The true sons and daughters of Skyrim do not attack innocent people in their homes in the dead of night.”

Once they were gone, he sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. 

“Perhaps a break is due, my Jarl?” suggested Captain Lonely-Gale.

“That is probably for the best. We will resume courtly matters in an hour’s time, my friends. Until then, I have an execution to oversee.”

The court dispersed, with the Thanes heading for the dining table that stood in the centre of the room whilst Brunwulf headed off for the prisons.

“You can’t resist a smart comment, Thane Valkari,” Captain Lonely-Gale noted dryly.

“It’s part of my charm,” she said, shrugging. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for a ship that docked here. The Northern Maiden.”

He blinked and his brow furrowed.

“The Northern Maiden? Of course you’d be looking for it,” he sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Yes, the ship docked just over a fortnight ago. And it’s still here.”

“A whole fortnight?” Valkari asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes. It’s causing a right stir down at the docks,” he explained exasperatedly. “The ship’s captain has refused to leave, and it’s beginning to become a problem. We had the dockmaster come to us earlier today, demanding something be done. The Jarl was going to send men but...”

He paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“If you could find out why the captain won’t leave, and perhaps persuade him to cast off…”

“I’ll see what I can do. After all, I’m so charming I can persuade anyone to do anything.”

He chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it. Still, if you could sort this mess out, you would have my gratitude, Thane.”

“I’ve got enough gratitude to last a lifetime.”

Things down on the docks were as tense as Captain Lonely-Gale had said. The workers kept glancing over at a ship moored to the dock as they passed by, and many were muttering between themselves whilst the guards kept them at bay. Valkari was guessing that this was the Northern Maiden.

“The steward sent me to investigate,” Valkari told the guards, and they let her by without any trouble.

The ship’s crew seemed just as nervous as the dockworkers. They were trying to keep themselves looking busy, organising cargo, checking the rigging and the masts, but all the while they kept glancing around and whispering among themselves. They all tensed when Valkari climbed aboard.

A big blond nord was sitting near the bow of the ship, his arms folded over his chest. He didn’t seem quite as nervous as the rest of the crew, and so she made her way over. He looked up and scowled.

"If you're looking for passage to Solstheim, too bad. I'm not going back there anymore," he snapped.

“And why’s that?”

“It’s hard to explain. I remember the people in the masks coming aboard, then… The next thing I remember, I was here and they were gone!” He shook his head. “That’s not right, losing whole days like that! There’s been something strange going on there for a while, but after this… I’m done. I’m not going back to Solstheim!”

“Yes, you are. You’re taking me to Solstheim.”

The captain shook his head frantically.

“Have you been listening to me?! I’m not going back there!”

“People are trying to kill me,” she growled, advancing on him. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The captain recoiled in terror.

“Now wait, I… I didn’t know, I never meant for anyone to get hurt!” he pleaded, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll take you to Solstheim. Just don’t hurt me.”

Satisfied with his answer, Valkari backed down and nodded curtly.

The Captain rose to his feet uneasily, eying her warily.

“Men, prepare to cast off,” he declared. “We’re headed for Solstheim.”


	2. Waking Dreams

Valkari tugged up her hood as she stepped out onto the deck just as a massive harbour wall loomed into view through the fog. The crew were shouting instructions to one another. Slowly the Northern Maiden began to swing around the wall, and the port town of Raven Rock came into view. She was glad to finally see dry land again. The voyage from Skyrim had been plagued with bad weather, with the Sea of Ghosts determined to capsize the ship. It reminded her as to why she despised boats.

“Here we are. Raven Rock,” announced Captain Gjalund, sounding uneasy. “Can’t say I’m all that glad to see it again. Good luck. Maybe you can figure out what’s going on here.”

It was as they drew closer to the town, Valkari could see why he had been so set against coming back to Raven Rock. The boat came into dock and there wasn’t a soul in sight. No guards, no dockworkers, no dockmaster, or anyone at all. The crew were whispering nervously among themselves, even as they moored the ship to the port. Only the creaking of the hull and the gentle lapping of water broke the silence, and it wasn’t comforting.

“Wait here,” Valkari instructed them sternly. “I need to take a look around.”

The crew were all too happy to stay behind. She took a look around, her stomach already starting to knot itself. The dock was littered with tools and baskets, among other things. It looked like they’d been dropped and left without a thought. And the town itself was no better. Lanterns lit the streets and there were lights in the windows, and yet there was still no one in sight. The smith’s forge was still warm and the embers were still glowing brightly, and a pair of tongs had been dropped into the water trough. Doors stood ajar, sacks of salted meat left spilling out over the ashy ground, and several coin purses had been left unattended on the abandoned stalls. Valkari pocketed them. They weren’t doing their previous owners any good.

Everyone seemed to have disappeared, and the silence was eerie. But there were tracks in the ash, all headed up the path that led out of town. It seemed that they’d all been heading in the same direction, but for what purpose?

Just then the door of one of the nearby buildings - which resembled the carapace of an overgrown beetle of some sort - opened and a dunmer woman tottered out.

“Hey, you!” Valkari called. But if the mer heard, she didn’t acknowledge her at all. Instead she just wandered off in the direction of the tracks, up the path and out of town. Valkari followed after, brow furrowing.

Waiting at the end of the path was an unnerving sight. Some sort of standing stone or monument stood at the water’s edge, and the entire town seemed to be enthralled by it. They worked mindlessly as they hauled and chiselled stone, their expressions blank and their eyes glassy. And they were… chanting.

_"Here in his shrine,_

_That they have forgotten,_

_Here do we toil,_

_That we might remember,_

_By the night we reclaim,_

_What by day was stolen,_

_Far from ourselves,_

_He grows ever near to us,_

_Our eyes once were blinded,_

_Now through him do we see,_

_Our hands once were idle,_

_Now through them does he speak,_

_And when the world shall listen,_

_And when the world shall see,_

_And when the world remembers,_

_That world will cease to be."_

If it was supposed to be a poem or a prayer, it wasn’t comforting in the slightest. Valkari’s skin crawled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end just listening to them. They were under some sort of spell, and she had no idea how to break it. If it could be broken. She was no mage after all.

"You there!”

She looked around and caught sight of another dunmer, though this one was very unlike the others. He was bald with a long brown beard and bushy eyebrows, and he wore robes of red and gold with an intricate pattern embroidered onto the front. He was also giving her a very curious look as he swept over.

“You don't quite seem to be in the same state as the others. Very interesting,” he noted, waving a hand towards the townspeople. “May I ask what it is you're doing here?"

“I’m looking for someone by the name of Miraak.”

"Miraak...Miraak... It sounds familiar but I can’t quite place…” He frowned, brow pinching in concentration. Then he blinked and clicked his fingers. “Oh. Wait. I recall. But that makes very little sense. Miraak's been dead for thousands of years."

It was Valkari’s turn to frown and she cocked her head.

“What do you mean dead? He sent his followers to kill me,” she said disbelievingly. “How does a dead man do that?”

"I'm not sure, but it is fascinating, isn't it? Perhaps it has some relation to what's going on here.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Quite unexpected. I'm afraid I can't give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak's toward the center of the island. If I were you, I'd look there."

But she wasn’t quite convinced.

“You don’t seem to be affected like everyone else here,” she pointed out warily. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“I could say the same of you,” the elf sniffed. “But if you _must_ know, I am Neloth, master wizard of House Telvanni. It's true that I normally prefer to stay home and conduct my research in peace. Everything's so much more convenient there. But, given that something seems to be taking control of the minds of all the inhabitants of Raven Rock, I thought it worth investigating. As for why I am unaffected, I have gone to some pains to ensure that I am immune to many forms of control. I cannot say for certain which is currently protecting me, but it bears further investigation at some point."

“So you have no idea what they’re doing or why it’s happening?”

"They’re building something, clearly. And yet they don't seem to have much to say about it.” He shrugged. “I'm very interested to find out what happens when they finish."

“Wait. You haven’t even tried to stop this from happening?!” she exclaimed, waving at the enthralled townsfolk.

"Certainly not! Doing so would interfere with whatever is going on, and I would be unable to see how this all turns out," Neloth replied incredulously. He looked at her like _she_ was crazy for even suggesting he intervene.

‘ _Mages_ ,’ she thought exasperatedly. They really didn’t care for anything beyond their own personal curiosity. Still she had a lead. This temple seemed like the best place to start looking for Miraak, and maybe find someway to free the townspeople from whatever spell held them.

[]

As Valkari ventured further north of Ravenrock, the ash wastes made way for far more familiar plains of snow. She trudged along, watching for the stone road markers that led towards the centre of the island.

Soon enough what could only be the temple that Neloth had mentioned began to loom over the horizon, with high stone arches that stood out boldly against the overcast sky. But they weren’t the only thing that caught her eye as she drew closer. At the base of the temple walls, Valkari made out something half buried in the snow. Something that seemed strangely familiar.

As though drawn to it, she approached and reached out a hand to brush the snow away. What lay underneath made her stomach turn.

A dragon’s skull. Its surface was blackened with scorch marks and its fangs had been pried free, no doubt by some scavenger looking to sell them. And it was evident that more than the skull had been left behind as her eyes traced over the outline of the dragon’s torso, buried under the snow.

Ribs had been snapped off and claw bones were missing, but the majority of the skeleton was still left. The question was… how? Valkari had never been to Solstheim before now, and she’d not heard any reports of dragons this far to the northwest. And even if some locals _had_ felled it, the cold would have kept the corpse from rotting away. The frigid north of Tamriel could preserve flesh for an entire millennia, suspending it in time. Yet these bones looked as though they’d been stripped clean with not even a scrap of sinew left behind. And it wasn’t the only one.

As Valkari looked around she spotted more and more skeletons scattered in the snow, just visible under the white blanket. All dragons, and not a single one entombed in a dragon mound. And now she thought about it, she couldn’t even sense the lingering traces of the life force a slain dragon left behind. The residual scraps of a soul waiting to refill its vessel should it ever be restored, like the dragons Alduin had been unable to resurrect prior to his defeat in Sovngarde. Even in the presence of these remains, her own soul was silent and still. It could not crave for something that wasn’t there. And that meant one thing.

Someone else had already devoured these dragons’ souls.

_“Here in his temple,_

_That they have forgotten…_ ”

Valkari looked up. There were people working here too, no doubt under the same spell as the people in Raven Rock. They had erected scaffolding along the high temple walls and were chiselling away at the stone mindlessly. She climbed up the scaffolding, and the chanting became clearer.

“ _Here do we toil,_

 _That we might remember._ "

In the centre of the temple plateau there was another standing stone, near identical to the one at Raven Rock. It emitted a green pillar of light into the sky, much more vivid than Raven Rock’s, and as she looked at it, she felt her focus begin to falter.

_“Here in my shrine,_

_That you have forgotten,_

_Here do you toil,_

_That you might remember_ -”

“Oslaf, please you must leave this place! It is not safe here! We must go back to the village!"

Valkari snapped out of her trance, shaking her head. That had been too close. A few more seconds and…

She stopped that train of thought there. She had to concentrate, else she risked being ensnared again. So she looked for the source of what had brought her back to her senses.

There was another nord woman nearby, shaking one of the mindless workers.

“Ysra, can you hear me? I’m here to help you!” she pleaded, but the worker seemed unaffected and continued to chisel at the stone, chanting that strange mantra.

She shook her head in frustration and turned away, when she caught sight of Valkari. Her eyes widened in surprise and she marched over.

"What brings you to this place? Why are you here?" she demanded, frowning at Valkari suspiciously.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Valkari retorted coolly. “Who are you?”

"I am Frea of the Skaal. I am here to either save my people, or avenge them."

“Save them from what, exactly?”

"I am unsure. Something has taken control of most of the people of Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves, and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones, the very land itself,” Frea explained. She shook her head. “My father Storn, our shaman, says Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible."

“Well this Miraak tried to have me killed, and honestly, that’s not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Valkari deadpanned.

"Then you and I both have reason to see what lies beneath us. Let us go. There is nothing more I can do here. The Tree Stone and my friends are beyond my help for now. We need to find a way into the temple below."

Suddenly there was a loud grinding noise and the edge of the plateau began to sink down, revealing a ramp down into the temple.

“That’s convenient,” Valkari noted bluntly, holding her bow at the ready.

“Find the intruders!”

Just as the first cultist appeared at the top of the ramp, they were immediately sent toppling backwards as the arrow struck them through the chest. They collapsed backwards, and their companion yelped as they stumbled. By the time they threw the corpse to the ground, a second arrow found their throat and they too crumpled.

Valkari lowered her bow.

“Miraak might want to start looking for people that don’t die so easily,” she noted dryly. She then turned to Frea, who seemed impressed. “You ready to go?”

Frea nodded, pulling a hatchet from her belt and holding it at the ready. “Lead on, my friend.”

[]

The halls of the temple were crawling with cultists and draugr, all of which seemed determined to halt Valkari and Frea’s progress. In what seemed to be a torture chamber, a deathlord was giving them a particularly tough time.

“FUS RO DAH!”

Valkari barely ducked behind a crumbling pillar in time to avoid the blast of Unrelenting Force, nocking an arrow as she did so. She leapt out and caught the draugr through a gap in its helmet, piercing one of its eyes. The draugr shrieked, staggering backwards. Frea leapt forward - with surprising speed, considering her size - and hacked the creature in the neck. It crumpled, hitting the ground with a thud when Frea pulled her hatchet free.

With the room clear, Valkari shouldered her bow to take a look around. Cages hung from the ceiling, suspended by chains. Inside were the corpses of the poor bastards that had been left to rot, and overlooking the pit they were hanging over was some sort of platform up above. She frowned, peering up at it. She caught a glimpse of something silver, glittering in the firelight.

It was worth investigating. She might as well turn a profit for her trouble.

Frea meanwhile peered up at the cages, frowning before she bowed her head in a show of respectful mourning.

"I do not wish to imagine the kinds of things that happened in this chamber. Who were the poor souls trapped in these cages? What tortures did they suffer at Miraak's hands? Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes?" she mused, turning around just in time to see Valkari scaling the wall. She cocked an eyebrow and grinned slightly just as the smaller nord reached the platform. “Impressive!"

Valkari dusted off her hands. A throne sat atop the platform, giving the occupant a full view of the chamber. It seemed Miraak, or maybe some high ranking priest of his, enjoyed watching the torturers at work. Left on the arm of the throne was a silver chalice and platter, both dusty but otherwise in pristine condition. They’d surely fetch a decent price.

Behind the throne, against the wall, was a large chest that someone had left unlocked. Valkari pried it open.

Inside there were weapons forged from bones. And undoubtedly they were dragon bones. She took a knife; it looked almost ceremonial with its twisted ebony handle that was riddled with intricate carvings. The blade itself was a bleached white and its edge was still razor-sharp. Valkari barely pressed a finger to it and it still drew blood.

“Was it worth the effort?” Frea called from below.

“You might say that,” Valkari called as she headed back to the edge, flipping the knife before slipping it into her belt. She climbed back down, jumping from the wall when she was close enough to the floor to land safely. “We should get moving.”

So deeper into the halls they went, cutting through swaths of cultists and draugr as they went. The narrow halls and their tight confines meant that using the Voice was a risk Valkari wasn’t willing to take. Had she been on her own, it would have been the perfect weapon, but with Frea often in the middle of the fray, she ran the risk of losing the one person who might be able to help her make sense of what was going on from this gods forsaken island.

The deeper they went, the colder the air became and Valkari could see her breath. She rubbed her hands together in the hopes of generating some warmth. So much for the infamous nordic resistance to the cold.

“What… _is_ this?” Frea gasped up ahead, and Valkari looked up just in time to stop herself before she walked straight into her.

They’d arrived in a circular chamber, half of which was taken up by the familiar sight of a Word Wall. The other half was lined with sarcophagi, and hanging from the ceiling was the skeleton of a dragon. Like the ones outside, there was no lingering remnants of life clinging to the bones, waiting to be restored. It was hollow and empty, and stripped of everything.

Valkari felt her temper rise just looking at it.

“Miraak displayed the dragons like trophies,” she growled. “No wonder they burned this place to the ground.”

Frea nodded, starting at the skeleton with disquiet awe.

“Such a display… It would be a mortal offense to the dragons, to be slain and have the remains displayed in such a manner.”

Valkari approached the wall, but rather than the familiar chanting, a great wailing filled her ears, distressed and pained, like whoever or whatever lingered within were experiencing great suffering.

She ran a hand over the carvings and they began to glow and burn into her mind.

“Mul,” she murmured. “Strength.”

“You understand the dragon’s language?” Frea exclaimed in disbelief.

Valkari didn’t reply. As she went to lift her hand from the wall, the wailing quieted and a consciousness from within reached out.

“ _You are Dragonborn… The Last of the Dragon’s Blood?_ ” a quiet, weary voice whispered.

“ _I am_.”

“ _Then heed our warning. A great evil descends over Solstheim, but it is not the island He wants,_ ” the voice said forebodingly. “ _He wanted you here. Wanted you to come, for your presence here is necessary. You must leave before it is too late, before He strips you of everything you are._ ”

“I _’m here to stop Miraak before he gets that chance._ ”

“ _No. Not Miraak. Miraak is simply..._ ” The voice paused, as though searching for words it had forgotten. “ _He is lost, and searching for his way back. He is led by pride and what he knows to be true. He knows this. He lingers in the shadows, waiting for Miraak to achieve his goals. And then He will take what He deems to be His._ ”

“ _Who is He?_ ”

The consciousness recoiled, as though it had been struck.

“ _We do not dare speak His name. We cannot speak it,_ ” they said ominously. “ _He will hear us. He will do whatever must be done so that He may know all. And you are the key to his plot. We have given you our warning, Dragonborn. It is your choice whether or not you heed it. We simply hope that you choose wisely._ ”

“ _Thanks for the advice._ ”

The consciousness withdrew back into the wall and it fell silent. Frea stared at Valkari.

“You were able to commune with the spirits in the wall…” she breathed. “You spoke the ancient tongue…” She hesitated a moment. “What are you?”

Valkari laughed hollowly.

“Quite done with all of this ancient bullshit if I’m being honest,” she said flatly.

[]

Frea kept quiet since their encounter with the word wall, and their battles with the draugr since. They’d not seen any of Miraak’s cultists in a while now, and the dust and cobwebs were thickening. No one had been down in the depths of the temple for over a millennia, not even the cultists. It was an unsettling thought. If they were reclaiming the temple for Miraak, why leave parts of the temple untouched? Would they consider it some sort of sacrilege? Or was there something that frightened even the cultists away?

Valkari didn’t like the thought of that.

They came to a circular chamber with a bizarre statue, a circular grate covering a wooden staircase leading deeper into the temple, and the switch to open it. The statue looked like some nihilistic artist’s rendition of fish heads, with huge round eyes, and long spiny teeth filling their jaws. And Valkari couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching her as she turned the switch.

The grate slid open, and they carefully made their way down the steps, each wooden board groaning as they went.

At the bottom of the stairs there was a narrow hallway leading to another spiral staircase. When they reached the bottom, they followed another passage that lead to a large set of double doors. Frea pushed them open.

Another dragon skeleton hung from the ceiling over a vast staircase, as empty and barren as the others, and immediately Valkari spotted draugr lurking in the shadows on either side of the steps.

“Allow me,” she said, before Frea leapt forward with her hatchets. “YOL TOOR SHUL!”

A great wave of fire erupted from her lips and washed over the hall. The draugr caught in its path shrieked, crumbling to the ground and the fire devoured them. Some of the armour draugr survived, but only just, and a few well aimed arrows stopped them from getting very far.

Frea quickly ran forwards as one of the more powerful draugr charged down the steps, waving a battle axe. She deflected the bladed edge as it swung at her neck, knocked it to the side with one hatchet and buried the other deep into the draugr’s neck. It howled angrily, glowing blue eyes flaring at Frea as it tried to bring its axe around again, but she was too close. She took her free hatchet and hacked the draugr in the middle several times until she severed its spine. The draugr collapsed into a heap, and Frea let it drop, prying her hatchet free from its neck.

Valkari led the way up the steps, pausing only briefly when she saw what stood at the top. It was a shrine roughly carved from volcanic rock, perhaps brought over from Vvardenfell, and roughly resembled a mound of eyes with tentacles and claws jutting out of it here and there. She felt her stomach turn.

“A shrine to Herma Mora,” Frea muttered. “Miraak must have dealt in daedric magic.”

Valkari didn’t say anything. She couldn’t judge daedra worship, not when she had her own deal with Nocturnal, but if Hermaeus Mora had a part in all of this, then the situation could well be worse than she imagined.

‘Mora isn’t one to break a promise, now is he,’ she thought privately. She didn’t like the idea of dealing with the Prince of Knowledge again, not when their last encounter had resulted in her locking the Oghma Infinium in a lockbox and then throwing it into the Sea of Ghosts where it could sit and wait to return to Oblivion.

“Another concealed passage,” said Frea, who’d already moved past the statue. “Come, we must be getting close now.”

Suddenly Valkari wasn’t sure she wanted to be getting close, but she followed anyway. The passage here wasn’t paved with stone but was carved roughly through the bedrock. It twisted and turned unevenly until it opened into a circular chamber. The air shifted as Valkari stepped inside, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

In the centre of the room was a pedestal. It stood over a grate, which had been placed over a large circular pool of what appeared to be water, except it was inky black and had an unnatural green sheen to it. And resting on the pedestal was a large, thick, black book with a worn cover. Valkari felt uneasy just looking at it.

"This book... It seems wrong, somehow. Here, yet... not.,” Frea murmured. “It may be what we seek."

Yet she didn’t seem to want to touch it anymore than Valkari did. So Valkari reluctantly approached. She flipped open the front cover.

_The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming question, as only the True Enquiry shapes the edge of thought. The rest is vulgar fiction, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhead. First,_

Suddenly there was a jerk in her lower navel and Valkari became alarmed as tentacles slithered out of the book, wrapping their way around her arms and working their way around her throat. She struggled, but they forcefully pulled her closer to the book with relentless force.

Then she was falling down into the dark, through the pages and through the cold until she hit the ground. Her knees buckled and complained at the impact, and Valkari struggled to steady herself as she took in her new surroundings.

She wasn’t in Tamriel anymore.

The sky was a sickly green, and tall, tottering towers dominated the landscape. She was stood on some flat stone platform, and all around her was a vast expanse of black sea. The air was thick and heavy and difficult to breathe, and she was far from alone.

Up ahead she made out several figures, all of them in thick, sweeping robes. At least, she thought they were, it was hard to tell at this distance. They were gathered in a circle, and Valkari thought she heard someone speaking, though it was hard to hear what it was being said. Carefully, she tried to creep closer to listen in on the conversation.

As she got closer, she could see that the figures weren’t people draped in robes. They were daedra, and they were all gathered around a man in the centre of them. He was wearing brown robes trimmed with gold, and decorated with dragon bones carved into pauldrons and sabatons. And covering his face was a golden mask. A mask of a Dragon Priest.

Miraak.

"The time comes soon when..." He stopped dead, and stared directly at Valkari. "What?!”

He waved a hand and Valkari felt herself being dragged forwards into full view, and onto her knees. She tried to push herself off of the ground, but an invisible force kept her pinned down.

“Who are you to dare set foot here?” snapped Miraak, striding over. He stopped in front of her, regarding her for a moment. Then he chuckled. “Ah... You are Dragonborn. I can feel it. And yet..."

He knelt down, slipping a finger under her chin and cocking her head back to get a better look at her. Valkari glared back at him, though through the contact she could feel in him what he no doubt felt in her. The power of dragons coursed through him, fierce and powerful and plentiful. How many souls had he consumed?

"So you have slain Alduin... Well done,” he said plainly. “I am aware that such a thing is no easy task. I could have slain him myself, back when I walked the earth, but I chose a different path."

“Yeah, would have been too bothersome to do us all a favour,” Valkari spat.

He chuckled again, as though amused. He dropped her chin and straightened up. As he turned away, he folded his hands behind his back, only pausing to glance back at her over his shoulder.

“You have spirit, and it is admirable, but you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield.” He turned back to her, hands dropping to his sides and furling into fists. “MUL QAH DIIV!”

Light washed over him, and Valkari watched in a mix of awe and horror as he changed before her eyes. Jagged green horns sprouted from the sides of his head, forcing his hood to drop, and a pair of large green wings - dragon wings - unfurled from his back. He must have been pleased with her reaction as he gave a self-satisfied snort.

"This realm is beyond you. You have no power here. I already control the minds of Solstheim's people,” he said coolly. “They will finish building my temple, and I can return home." He turned to the daedra. "Send her back where she came from. She can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel."

He walked away, wings stretching open as the daedra turned to Valkari. The last thing she saw before they swarmed over her and darkened her vision was Miraak taking off into the sky, accompanied by the great roaring of dragons somewhere out of her view.

Valkari staggered backwards, the book slipping from her hands. She blinked, her stomach turning on itself and she doubled over in an attempt to keep herself from vomiting. The tentacles holding her were gone, as was the strange place she’d left behind. She was back in the chamber, and Frea was standing over her, steadying her.

"What happened to you? You read the book and then... It seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see through you!" she exclaimed worriedly.

“I… I saw Miraak,” Valkari muttered. “I was somewhere else… The book took me to him.”

"This is a dangerous thing, then,” she said darkly, looking down at the book as it lay innocently on the ground. “We should return to my village, and show this to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on."

Valkari nodded, straightening up. She grabbed the book of the floor and stuffed it into her pack, then gave herself a shake. She must have looked as bad as she felt, as Frea gave her a worried look.

“Come, there looks to be a way out through here,” she said, leading the way out through another passage on the far side of the room.

Valkari followed slowly as the feeling sunk back into her legs, though it threatened to leave as she thought of Miraak and those creatures, and everything she had heard.

She was in for more than she had bargained for.


	3. The Skaal

Valkari trudged through the snow a short distance behind Frea, still trying to shake off the feeling that had crawled under her skin after her encounter with Miraak. Her stomach was churning uncomfortably and she could have sworn she could feel tendrils crawling over her arms, sliding up around her neck. She rolled her shoulders in an attempt to force the sensation to abate, but it was stubbornly persistent. It would help if the sun could be dimmed just a bit. The harsh winter sunlight was unforgiving on her eyes, which were far more accustomed to the dark gloom of shadows and night, and they stung painfully every time she opened her eyes any further than a squint.

"You see that green light?” called Frea from up ahead. She had stopped on a ridge and was pointing at something in the distance.

Valkari came to a halt beside her, following her gaze as best she could. True enough, a pillar of green light was visible over the treeline, an eerie, spectral glow that only worsened the crawling sensation under her skin. She wondered briefly if those daedra had done something to her when they sent her back.

“That comes from the Wind Stone, where my people work against their will. They must be freed soon," Frea explained, turning to continue walking along the ridge. They came to a fast-running river that was spanned by a rickety rope bridge that was close enough to the surface of the water that it swayed dangerously with the current, and the boards were slick with icy water. Valkari couldn’t help but stare at it in brief disbelief, wondering how anyone could think crossing it was a good idea.

Frea was one of those people clearly, as she stepped out onto the bridge without so much as flinching. And it seemed that Valkari would have to be one too if she was going to get the answers she needed. The bridge seemed to lurch even under Valkari’s weight - and she was small for a nord - and it wasn’t until she was on the other side did she realise she’d even been holding her breath. It was almost funny. She could run across a narrow, icy rooftop and leap to scramble up the next wall and vault it with flawless ease, all without so much as batting an eye, yet it was a _bridge_ that made her nervous.

They continued their trudge through the wilds until Frea broke into a jog, shouting over her shoulder, "The village is just ahead. Storn has used his magic to raise a barrier around it, protecting the few of us left. That the barrier is still there is a good sign."

Valkari had to do a bit more than jog to keep up with the taller nord, but sure enough she could see it. A glittering dome rose above the treeline, and just beyond it was the sort of place that, prior to her life taking a turn to the odd and mysterious, Valkari would never had bothered walking into, let alone robbing. It was a tiny village, if that. Just a collection of small log houses built around a larger hall, and was largely deserted. Just like Raven Rock all sorts of mundane, everyday items were scattered over the ground, left as though dropped without a second thought, and only the wind split the eerie silence. Unlike Raven Rock, however, there were mages that proved to be more proactive than Neloth. Four of them were sitting in a circle before the hall, strands of magicka flowing from them and twisting together before reaching up into the sky and forming the domed veil that encased the village.

“Father!” Frea called, stopping just short of the mages seated on the ground.

The eldest, a old man wrapped in thick furs and whose face was heavily lined with age, lifted his head and said, “Frea! What news do you bring? Is there a way to free our people?"

"No, but I have brought someone who has seen things,” Frea replied, beckoning Valkari to come forward. “She has confirmed that Miraak is indeed behind the suffering of our people."

“I feared that it would be so,” he said grimly, not seeming at all surprised.

“But how is that possible? After all this time…”

“I fear there is too much we do not yet know,” he sighed heavily, shaking his head.

Frea turned to Valkari. “Please, tell Storn what has happened.”

She moved to sit in the circle as Storn slowly rose to his feet. He was bowed by age, but still stood a few inches taller than Valkari, and his eyes were a bright yellow, not dissimilar to that of a hawk’s. He beckoned he follow her towards one of the nearby huts. Herbs and chimes carved from wood and bone hung around the door, and the windows were frosted over. Inside was a roaring fire pit in the centre of the main room, and the air was thick with a perfume-like aroma.

Storn eased himself to sit by the fire and Valkari followed suit. He eyed her carefully as he reached for a teapot and busied himself. Unsure if he was waiting for her to start explaining, Valkari opted to remain silent instead, watching him carefully as he prepared some tea. She didn’t recognise all of the ingredients - they must have been native to Morrowind because she’d not seen the likes of them in Skyrim - and it made her a little uneasy. Not knowing what was going in your food and drink made you more vulnerable to poisoning. Whether the Skaal were the sort of people inclined to poisoning outsiders, she didn’t really know.

Storn carefully hung the teapot over the fire and reached for a pair of clean cups. There was nothing particularly fancy or special about them, they were just plain iron. The Skaal preferred practicality it seemed.

“So, you have seen things, yes?” said Storn, placing the cups by the fire as the tea brewed. “My magic grows weak, and so does the barrier around our village. Time is short. Tell me what you know.”

Straight to the point. She could respect that. So she told her story, from the cultists arriving in Riften and their failed assassination attempt up to the book that had allowed her to see Miraak in Oblivion. She knew it had to be Oblivion, there had been daedra after all, and no place on Nirn looked quite like _that_.

"The legends speak of that place. Terrible battles fought at the temple. The dragons burning it to the ground in rage,” said Storn, his brow furrowed as he reached for the teapot. “They speak also of something worse than dragons buried within. Difficult to imagine, but if true... It means what I feared has come to pass. Miraak was never truly gone, and now has returned. If you could go to this place and see him... Are you like Miraak? Are you Dragonborn?"

“I am.”

He set a cup into her hands and immediately her hands soaked in the heat appreciatively, all whilst he regarded her with a weighted curiosity.

"Then perhaps you are connected with him. The old tales say that he, too, was Dragonborn." He took a sip of his own tea, and so Valkari followed suit. She doubted he’d drink from the same pot so openly if he was trying to poison her. And it wasn’t like he really had the motive to poison her.

The taste was unusual, but not unpleasant and the warmth set into her bones. Surprisingly the crawling sensation beneath her skin seemed to finally abate and her stomach settled. Her surprise must have shown on her face as Storn chuckled.

“I find that strong tea can help settle one’s nerves after dealing with daedra,” he said shortly, before placing his cup back down.

“You said that Miraak and I are connected,” Valkari pointed out. “What do you mean by that?”

"I am unsure. It may mean that you could save us, or it may mean that you could bring about our destruction. But our time here is running out. The few of us left free of control cannot protect ourselves for much longer.” He shook his head then fixed Valkari with his hawk-like eyes. “You must go to Saering's Watch. Learn there the Word that Miraak learned long ago, and use that knowledge on the Wind Stone. You may be able to break the hold on our people there, and free them from control."

Valkari set the cup down. Ordinarily she wouldn’t do anything without bringing up the subject of payment - if she had to be a hero, she’d at least profit from it - but something told her that she’d need their help later. No sense in causing offense before she really had a solid idea of what she had gotten herself into this time.

[]

Saering’s Watch was a ruin complex near the northern end of the island. Finding it wasn't difficult. Like most ancient nordic ruins it stood out against the snowy mountainside it had been built into. Also it was crawling with draugr, which she really ought to have expected by now. It didn't help that the draugr left here seemed to be of the stronger variety, the sort that not only could survive a Shout but could also use them in turn. It seemed Miraak had been determined to keep others from learning the secret of his power, which, again, shouldn't have been surprising.

Still she made it through well enough, with a combination of the shadowcloak, well-timed arrows and the occasional burst of dragon fire. Before long she had reached the top of the ruins where the Word Wall waited. Just like the one in Miraak’s temple, the spirits within the Wall were wailing as opposed to their usual chanting.

Valkari ran a hand over the carvings which glowed warmly beneath her palm.

“Mul…” Strength. The same word she found in Miraak's temple. Meaning she'd come all this way to find what she already knew. Wonderful.

“ _You remain true to your path, Last of the Dragon’s Blood?_ ” a voice whispered wearily. “ _You seek out the very knowledge that turned Miraak into what he is._ ”

“ _I_ _have to if I want to stop him,_ ” Valkari replied curtly. “ _Unlike him though, I’m not some egotistical arsehole who’s going to let the power go to my head._ ”

“ _You say it with such certainty, but that does not make it true. Even the strongest of mortals bow in the face of such power. It corrupts and changes them, and makes them yearn for more. Until they dominate all that surrounds them. Not even dragons are immune to such temptations._ ”

“ _You obviously don’t know me very well._ ”

Overhead there was an all too familiar, ear-shattering roar and Valkari looked up just in time to see a large silver-grey dragon swoop in over from the mountainside, kicking up snow as it flew past, it’s large amber eyes fixing on Valkari.

“ _Only time tells the truth, Last of the Dragon’s Blood,_ ” the voice whispered, fading away. “ _And soon we will see which of us is the fool._ ”

Valkari simply rolled her eyes and turned to face the dragon which had veered off over the ruins before circling back around and stopping to hover in front of Valkari. Obviously he’d chosen not to attack… Yet.

“ _Dovahkiin,_ ” he growled. “ _You dare trespass in my domain?_ ”

“ _I came here for information. You're free to keep your… domain._ ”

She didn’t care to keep the sarcastic edge from her voice. She knew well and good that the dragons knew better than to cross her, considering the fact that Alduin had been slain by her own hand. A couple had fallen prey to their own arrogance and received a beating in return, but it was their pride that was wounded most, and it seemed the rest had decided that getting on her bad side wasn’t worth the humiliation. But then those were dragons who had somewhat regular contact with one another. It was difficult to tell if this dragon - as seemingly isolated as he was - knew what was in store if his pride did get the better of him.

" _You have the soul of a dovah, and the Voice of one, but you lack our understanding,_ ” he spat. “ _To enter another dovah’s domain uninvited and taking his knowledge for one’s self is a crime worthy of punishment._ ”

“ _Seeing as you know who I am, I’m going to guess that you know that I killed Alduin,_ ” Valkari said coolly. “ _So tell me, if you didn’t think yourself strong enough to go up against the World Eater, what makes you think that you could go up against his slayer?_ ”

“ _Your defeat of Alduin proves only that his power was a lie,_ ” the dragon retorted. “ _Bring me down Dovahkiin, and then we will see if you truly-_ ”

She didn’t even let him finish.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!”

The familiar pain tore through her, her dragon’s soul recoiling at the power of Dragonrend, but by now she’d mastered the pain and remained standing. Blue threads of energy wrapped themselves around the dragon and brought him crashing down onto the ruins below. He roared indignantly, flailing as he tried to return to the air without success. Valkari moved to the top of the steps and glared at him.

“ _I didn’t even have to draw a weapon to bring you down_ ,” she said. “ _You’re out of your league. Now I suggest you get out of my way_.”

Dragons were proud beasts that weren’t easily cowed by any means, and yet the dragon lowered his head in submission.

“ _Very well, Dovahkiin. I have no wish to die today. You have proven your strength,_ ” he rumbled. “ _But in return for your mercy, I offer you a warning._ ”

“ _Is it about Miraak, or ‘He Who Knows?’_ ”

The dragon nodded. “ _Miraak desires freedom above all else, but He Who Knows has far greater desires, and will stop at nothing to obtain them. When you face Him, Dovahkiin, you must be cunning, or you will never escape._ ”

“ _Thanks for the advice._ ”

[]

The Wind Stone was much like the standing stone that Valkari had seen at Raven Rock. In that it had a number of people seemingly enthralled by it, all of whom were Skaal if the furs were any indication. They hauled stone, chiselled at the structure surrounding the stone, and all were repeating the same chant Valkari had heard at Raven Rock and at the temple.

Storn had seemed certain (or at least hopeful) that the Word of Power from Saering’s Watch could undo Miraak’s influence over the Skaal and over the Wind Stone. It was time to find out.

“MUL!”

A wave of energy erupted from Valkari’s lips and washed over the stone, and she felt her body tingling in response, as though the Shout had stirred something in her very blood. She didn’t get long to think about it as the stone began to glow bright orange. The structure the Skaal had been working on quaked and fractured before exploding in a blaze of light.

Almost immediately the Skaal seemed to snap out of their trance. They dropped their tools, staring around as they came back to their senses.

“How… how did I get here?” cried one startled man.

“By the All-Maker, the whole village is here,” cried a broad-shouldered woman with dark hair that was streaked with silver as she looked around, her eyes falling on Valkari and narrowing dangerously. “And you. Who are you?”

“Storn sent me,” said Valkari. “He could probably tell you more about what’s going on here, but otherwise you’re welcome.”

“Storn sent you? But what-”

She was cut off as the pool surrounding the standing stone began to bubble and froth ominously. Valkari drew her bow, nocking an arrow. Whatever was happening, she was more than willing to bet that it wasn’t good.

And sure enough, her gut was proven right. A large, slimey, clawed hand rose from the depths of the pool and gripped at the rim. It was followed by a massive fish-like head with round, milky eyes and a mouth brimming with pointed teeth. It’s slimy, black body was just as enormous and it seemed impossible that the creature could have been lurking in the pool the entire time. It rose to its feet, stepping out of the pool, looming over them all. It must have been at least ten feet tall, and that was honestly the least ominous thing about it.

“Get back, all of you!” barked the dark haired woman, who reached for the sword hanging from her waist.

The rest of the Skaal didn’t hesitate to obey, with the majority running for the treeline, whereas a couple others remained behind, drawing their own weapons. The daedra - there was simply nothing else it _could_ be - turned its gaze to Valkari and the Skaal warriors. They all tensed, waiting to see what it would do.

It roared, a grating, shrieking sound not unlike nails being dragged over a chalkboard, and a viscous black ichor dripped from its maw. The smell that accompanied it was foul, like rotten fish left out in the sun for too long. Then the daedra charged.

Valkari shot first, her arrow catching in its ribs though it did nothing to deter it. She dove out of its path as it swung a huge, club-like fist at her. The Skaal warriors took it as their opening. More arrows found their marks in the daedra’s back, sticking in deep, whilst the dark haired woman and a couple of others charged in with their swords and axes, hacking at its legs. Black ichor spurted from the wounds and the daedra swung viciously at the warriors. The dark haired woman was able to dart out of its reach just in time, but her fellows weren’t so lucky. They went flying, crashing to the ground. One landed in the pool and the dark haired woman swore.

“Keep it busy!” she barked at Valkari, charging back towards the Wind Stone. Valkari didn’t argue, strafing to the daedra’s right, away from the stone. Fortunately it decided that she was the more interesting target and lumbered after her, its gait lacking any sort of grace. But it didn’t need it when the ground rumbled beneath its sheer weight.

Valkari aimed another arrow, this one piercing one of its eyes and rupturing it. Black fluid ran down its face, but again it seemed untroubled by this development, continuing its charge. Valkari again dove past it before it could catch her with its massive fist, which at a closer glance appeared to be plated with some sort of chitin.

“IIS SLEN NUS!”

A layer of ice formed over the daedra’s hide, thickening over its joints. But it was so massive that it didn’t seem very effective. For a brief second it was halted, but Valkari could see the ice beginning to crack almost immediately.

“FUS RO DAH!”

Thrown back by Unrelenting Force, the daedra hit the ground with a crash that knocked snow from the nearby trees. A second later and the dark haired Skaal woman ran forward and plunged her blade down into its throat, throwing all of her weight into the blow.

The daedra gasped and shrieked, black ichor spurting from its neck and jaws like some sort of grotesque fountain. It twitched and quivered even as she pulled her sword free, black grime oozing over the icy blue blade as it finally fell still. Dead.

Valkari shouldered her bow, trying not to look directly at it, like doing so might bring back the crawling sensation. She then turned to the dark haired woman, finally getting a good look at her. She was older, face weathered and lined with age, jaw square and heavy, and she was dressed in the heavy furs of the Skaal.

"I thank you for your aid stranger," she said in a thick Skaal accent. "Though I am still uncertain what it is you have done for us exactly."

"My name is Valkari. And I just freed you from Miraak's brainwashing. You're welcome."

"Miraak? But he's..." She shook her head. "I am Fanari Strong-Voice, chieftain of the Skaal. If Storn sent you rather than come himself, then there is something at work that I cannot understand. Now come. We should get back to the village. I am sure Storn is worried.”

She turned to the Skaal warriors who had all been watching the exchange in confusion.

“You heard me!” she barked. “Round up the rest of the villagers and ensure they make it back to the village safely.”

They all nodded and dashed off into the treeline where the others had fled when the daedra appeared. Fanari glanced down at Valkari and beckoned for her to follow.

"Come. I am curious to hear what exactly we are up against."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up 6 months late with a starbucks* Okay so... I've been dealing with pretty bad writer's block, hence why this took so long. I hope to have the rest of this fic be a bit more regular, so thank you guys for being so patient with me ^^


	4. The Descent

"The air is different. We are safe, which means you have succeeded," said Storn. He was seated outside his hut, looking drained and weary but relieved. Frea stood beside him, arms folded over her chest, expression as guarded as ever, though she did give Valkari a slight smile.

“The Skaal are free from whatever Miraak was doing to them at the Wind Stone.”

"So it is. You have proven yourself an ally to the Skaal, and so the Skaal shall be allies to you."

“Well Miraak is still out there and I need to stop him. Any suggestions?”

Storn chuckled. "Indeed. If you have released the Wind Stone and broken the hold on my people, perhaps you can do the same for the rest of Solstheim. I doubt it will fully stop whatever Miraak is doing, but it may slow his progress," he explained. “There are four other Standing Stones across the island; Beast, Earth, Sun, and Water. Release them, and you may be able to free the rest of Solstheim’s people.”

“That’s not enough. I need to stop Miraak. Permanently.”

He shook his head solemnly. "I cannot help with that. None here can. You will need the knowledge Miraak himself learned. You will need to learn more about this Black Book." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, inhaling deeply as he did so. “If you would, cleanse the other Stones. It may afford us some time until we are more certain of our next step. I will contact you once I have some idea of where we go from here.”

It wasn’t exactly ideal, but considering she didn’t have any better ideas, it would have to do. Slowing Miraak down was a lot better than fumbling around in the dark for answers. So she inclined her head and set out from the village. Raven Rock was her first stop. The Standing Stone there had an entire town enthralled, and the sooner that they were freed, the better.

Fanari stopped her just before she left, wrapping her in another hug.

“May the All-Maker guide you safely back to us,” she said firmly before pressing something into Valkari’s hand. “And take this.”

It was a wooden carving of a howling wolf, small enough to slip into a pocket and very worn by age. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing Valkari would usually deem valuable. There certainly didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about it.

“I hope this isn’t a fertility thing, because it’s never going to happen,” she said flatly, and Fanari let out a booming laugh.

“It is no such thing,” she said reassuringly. Then she winked. “It is a good luck charm. It never hurts to have a bit of luck on your side after all.”

That Valkari could agree with, so she pocketed the carving and made her way back south to Raven Rock. The trip took a couple of hours at most, and the town was as eerily abandoned as ever. Her stomach dropped uncomfortably when she realised that Captain Gjalund and his crew had disappeared from the Northern Maiden. Tools had been abandoned, the sail was left hanging freely and only the mooring had kept it from drifting back out to sea.

As expected they were working the Standing Stone along with the rest of the townsfolk, hauling stones and chiseling away at the shrine. It was nearing completion already, but Valkari now knew what to do about it. She approached the shrine and could feel the influenced radiating from the stone.

“MUL!”

Just like with the Wind Stone, the shrine began to glow. Cracks of bright orange light leaked out before promptly exploding outwards, shattering the structure. And as with the Skaal, the townsfolk seemed to immediately snap out of their daze. There were plenty of startled faces, many of them looking around in surprise, others looking too stunned to really react.

One of them - a pompous-looking dunmer in a padded coat that passed for finery out on the remote island - caught sight of Valkari and strode over.

“I don’t recognise you, Outlander,” he said sharply, eyes gleaming with suspicion. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

She didn’t answer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the pool around the Standing Stone frothing wildly, just like at the Wind Stone.

She roughly shoved the mer out of the way and grabbing her blade. There was screaming as a daedra identical to the last one rose from the pool, shrieking and roaring. It seemed that Miraak wasn’t so arrogant to presume that no one would be able to disrupt his work.

Valkari wasted no time using her Shouts, quickly sending the daedra crashing to the ground before delivering a swift blow to its throat with her blade. It certainly proved more effective than just shooting it. The creature writhed for several seconds, thick black ichor pouring fast from the wound before it fell still.

An eerie silence fell, the townspeople staring in a mix of horror, awe, and confusion before Valkari turned to the mer and said, “My name is Valkari. And I’m here to save all your arses.”

[]

Raven Rock was quickly restored to (what Valkari assumed was) its usual state. Merchants returned to their stalls, pedalling what wares they had to offer, whilst others were sweeping ash off of the Imperial-styled buildings. Dunmer-architecture was clearly better suited to the near constant ash-fall from Red Mountain, visible on the horizon when the weather was good. The stark black tower peered over the horizon, the continuous column of ash and smoke rising from its peak in a thick black and grey cloud at all times of the day.

Valkari quickly got to work freeing the other Standing Stones from Miraak’s influence, which she hoped would be enough to slow his progress, at least until Storn had more information for her. Unfortunately it seemed to be a slow task. She had stopped by the Skaal Village after freeing the last stone, hoping to be in luck, but Storn’s progress was slow. His people’s lore held little to nothing on the Black Books, and no one in Raven Rock seemed to know anything about them either.

And that was how she ended up going down into Raven Rock’s abandoned ebony mine in search of Crescius Caerellius. It just so happened that Glover Mallory, Delvin’s brother and a (loose) member of the Thieves Guild, was the town’s blacksmith and had offered Valkari room and board whilst she was in town. It also happened that Crescius had ‘borrowed’ an ancient nordic pickaxe that Glover wanted back. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, and she’d prefer to keep any debts between herself and Glover clear. After all, thieves never gave anything away for free.

"Damn it, woman! I said to leave me be!"

"Crescius, last time you explored the mine you almost fell to your death. I'm not spending the rest of my days as a widow!"

"And I'm telling you that I'll do whatever it takes to find my great-grandfather's remains. He's down here, I can feel it."

Valkari turned a corner, and stood at the lip of the mine shaft stood an old, withered imperial man and a dunmer woman in dark red robes, clearly in the middle of an argument.

"That was almost two centuries ago. There may be nothing left to find," the mer pressed exasperatedly.

"Just let me go, woman!" barked the imperial.

"Crescius, you're an obstinate old fool and you're going to get yourself killed!" shouted the mer, eyes sparkling with tears as she turned on heel and marched out, passing Valkari by without so much as a glance.

Valkari cocked an eyebrow and turned back to Crescius who was muttering darkly to himself. When he saw Valkari, he scowled at her.

"Who in the blazes are you?! Can't you see I'm busy?" he barked.

“With making your wife cry? Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded at that today,” she deadpanned. Crescius’ scowl simply deepened. “So, what’s so worthwhile you’re happy to let her barge out of here in tears?”

"Why should I tell you? I don't even know who you are," he snapped, eying Valkari with suspicion.

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous for an old man to be wandering around these mines? Far too easy to throw out a hip, or break your neck.”

"Ask most of the folks around here and they'd agree with you," said Crescius, waving her off. "But mark my words, these mines hold a secret that could put Raven Rock back on the map."

Valkari cocked an eyebrow, watching warily as Crescius turned away and started busying himself with lengths of rope and climbing gear - all of which looked old and worn with use. How long before something snapped and sent the old fool falling to his death at the bottom of the mines?

“What kind of secret?” she asked, leaning against a nearby barrel, curiosity piqued.

"A secret the East Empire Company swept under the rug two centuries ago,” said Crescius, barely looking up as he strapped on a harness. “It killed my great-grandfather, and left Raven Rock with a worthless and tainted mine."

“Who was your grandfather?”

"Gratian Caerellius. He spent his entire life exploring ancient ruins across Tamriel and he died in these very mines almost 200 years ago. East Empire Company called it 'a terrible accident,' claiming that he was lost in a rockfall, but I know better." He scowled darkly. "My wife and I were cleaning out our home, and we came across some of my great-grandfather's things locked in an old chest. I found an unsent letter he'd written to the East Empire Company, and a key. The letter describes a discovery that was made in the mine by some of the diggers. They wanted Gratian to take a closer look. The East Empire Company must have felt it was of great value, as they locked that section of the mine off from everyone else."

“And the key opens up that section of the mine?”

He swivelled back towards Valkari, eyes glinting with mad excitement.

"It does!” A pause followed before he resumed his previous stance. “Well, I assume it does. I haven't been able to find the entrance."

“This is hardly proof of anything, old man,” Valkari said dryly. “All it proves is that the East Empire Company asked Gratian to take a look at something they found. You know, like a really interesting rock.”

Crescius scowled. "Now you're starting to sound like everyone else," he grumbled. “I'm telling you... there's something big down there, something that the East Empire Company wanted to hide from everyone!”

“And you’re telling _me_ all of this because...?”

"Look, my wife nags that I'm too old to go traipsing around these mines chasing my story,” he said. Valkari could have told him that. “Time's my enemy... it's caught up with me before I could find the answers that I'm looking for."

“So you _do_ need my help,” she said smugly, smirking at him.

“I do. I want to know what happened to Gratian, and what the East Empire Company is keeping from all of us."

“So where do I start?”

"Gratian kept a journal of notes about his discoveries. If you can find his... remains, I'm hoping it will help. Here's everything I have. The letter, the key. Please, do this for me so I can finally regain the respect that I've lost."

He pressed the objects into her hands and gave her a stern look before (somewhat reluctantly) removing his climbing gear and hobbling off up the slope leading to the mine entrance.

Valkari stood there a moment or two, remembering suddenly why she’d even been looking for the fool in the first place. She sighed, shaking her head. She would ask for the pickaxe when she returned to him with his ‘secret’, along with her payment for going down into what was most likely a death trap.

She pocketed the letter and key and approached the lip of the hole leading down into the mines. There was a ladder leading to a platform just below, and there were a series of abandoned mine carts that had long since been picked clean of any valuable ores they might have carried when the mine was still operational. Even from here she wasn’t sure how far down the mine went. Beyond the platforms and rope bridges connecting them, it was just a gaping pit leading down into the dark.

“This had better be worth my time,” she growled, lowering herself down onto the ladder.

It moaned under her slight weight, but otherwise it held. Deciding that it would be smarter not to trust it to continue to do so, Valkari slid down onto the platform below. The smell of wood rot and damp was powerful, creeping up her nose and she quickly pulled her scarf up over her face. It was a scant improvement, but better than nothing.

She proceeded down, crossing the bridges and platforms deeper into the mines. Crescius had obviously been down multiple times and recently, going by the flickering of the lanterns lining the path. It made it easier to rule out places to look for the locked off section of the mines.

Skeevers had taken to inhabiting the mine since its closure. She didn’t have to see them to know they were there, she was familiar enough with the stench of a skeever nest to know one was nearby. So she moved slowly and quietly, not caring to waste her time on a few overgrown, disease-ridden rodents. It was bad enough she was doing this in the first place. What concern was it of her’s if a man might have had his death covered up two hundred years ago? Right, because she was the famous Dragonborn and found herself suddenly committing good deeds as often as crimes.

“Fuck you Alduin,” she muttered under her breath.

The tunnels continued to wind deeper and deeper into the earth, and soon the path of lit lanterns came to a sudden halt. This was as far as Crescius had gotten then. Valkari took one of the lanterns that had been hooked to the wall and continued her descent.

Funnily enough it seemed that Crescius had been closer than he had realised. Someone had boarded up a portion of one of the side tunnels not far from where the lanterns ended. Valkari took her blade and smacked the hilt against the boards. They gave way almost immediately, revealing the passage beyond. It was pitch black, save for the glow of the lantern which Valkari hooked to her belt before drawing her bow. Better safe than sorry. There was no way of knowing what might be hiding in the dark.

She moved slowly and silently, the air growing colder as she continued to move deeper and deeper through the passages. Spider webs stretched from floor to ceiling, thick and dense enough to trap anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in one. It seemed skeevers weren’t the only ones who called the mines home now, and sure enough she caught sight of a large frostbite spider scuttling just out of sight around the bend. Valkari nocked an arrow and readied her bow as she rounded the corner.

Her arrow drove through the thorax of the spider, viscous yellow blood spurting out in its wake, and the spider let out a clicking shriek as it rounded on her furiously. The next arrow went straight through its head, between its numerous beady black eyes and it crumpled into a heap, unmoving. A Shout might have killed it faster, but Valkari didn’t trust that it wouldn’t bring the mines down on her head. Better safe than sorry.

Further down the path and Valkari found what she was looking for. A locked gate, rusted by age and barring entry into another section of the mine. She pulled out the key Crescius had given her and inserted it into the lock. It fit perfectly, and the gate creaked open with a squealing noise.

Further down the passage, the uneven rocky floor made way for smooth paving stones, and the craggy walls transition to masonry. Valkari raised an eyebrow. She’d seen the likes of this craftsmanship before years ago, back when she traipsed around Skyrim during the Dragon Crisis. It was consistent with that of a Nordic Barrow.

“Maybe you weren’t wrong after all Crescius,” she murmured. She was suddenly unsure that she would like what she’d find down there after all.

[]

Draugr. It _had_ to be draugr. And not just regular run-of-the-mill draugr either, but a series of the more powerful and armoured variants, which tended to be smarter too. She ducked into a shadowy corner as the frost atronauch lumbered past, the air dropping to freezing as it passed. Of course they knew how to summon daedra too, why wouldn’t they?

Yes, she was going to be discussing her bill with Crescius when this was done, and it was going to include more than just the pickaxe.

There was one advantage to being in the barrow instead of the mines now. It was much more structurally sound, and her Shouts wouldn’t bring the ceiling crashing down on her. Once the atronauch was a little ways ahead of her, Valkari slipped out of her hiding place and tugged down her scarf.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!”

Dragon fire washed over the daedra and it shrieked as its body thawed and melted away, leaving only a puddle on the ground.

She hurried further through the network of hallways and corridors, pressing deeper into the tombs. More draugr were lurking in the dark, but nothing she couldn’t handle, and eventually the flagstones made way for craggy rock again, leading into a narrow passage that even Valkari had to bow her head to fit through. Anyone larger would have had to crawl to fit.

She inched down the passage, her lantern starting to burn low. It wouldn’t be long before it burned out altogether.

The passage opened up, and Valkari found herself overlooking a vast cavern. A waterfall spouted from the far wall, cutting a stream across the room. A large sealed doorway stood opposite from Valkari, as tall as the cavern and covered in grooves and runes which she could see even from her perch.

Carefully she lowered herself down to the cavern floor and made her way across the room. Not far from the door was an ancient camp, and still lying there were the skeletons of its last inhabitants. It seemed she had found Gratian. Definitely not killed by a cave-in then.

“Poor bastard,” she said, rooting amongst the bodies in search of anything useful. She found a coin purse, filled with septims which she took - it wasn’t like Gratian would need them anymore - as well as a small, battered journal. Undoubtedly the one that Crescius had mentioned.

She flipped it open.

_11 Second Seed 4E10_

_It's been an astonishing day of discovery! After exploring the large chamber beyond the dropoff, I was startled to find the strangest weapon I've ever laid eyes upon sitting on a pedestal of sorts. The blade appears to be flawless, and is emitting a faint chilling glow. Bits of parchment I found about the chamber seem to call this "The Bloodskal Blade." Not certain if I should remove it yet, I think I'll sleep on it._

_12 Second Seed 4E10_

_I've decided against my own better judgment to remove the Bloodskal Blade from its pedestal. Millius seems completely against it, but we need to bring this wondrous artifact with us when we find a way out of the barrow._

_13 Second Seed 4E10_

_I should have listened to Millius. The moment the blade was lifted, we were set upon by draugr. Millius fought bravely, but he fell. I was able to destroy the remaining ones, but I was badly wounded. I can barely stand. My only chance would be finding a way out of this place, but I fear that I'm trapped._

_14? Second Seed 4E10_

_Exploring has been slow. I can only move for maybe a few minutes at a time before I have to rest. My supplies are running low, and I'm feeling weaker by the hour. The only progress I've made is finding a strange door with markings on it that I've never seen._

_There appears to be something to them I'm missing, as they've confounded my attempts at getting through. I'll have to study this further in order to make any progress... barely can keep awake._

_I'm fairly certain that the key to the door involves the use of the Bloodskal Blade. When swinging the weapon, I'm noticing a ribbon of mystical energy emanating from it. I think by swinging the sword in different directions, it's possible to manipulate this ribbon and solve whatever puzzle this door presents. I hope to get well enough to put this to the test soon... each swing is a huge effort._

_Last entry_

_I've lost track of time and my strength is fading. I can't even stand anymore. My wounds refuse to heal. I'm afraid this tomb will become my resting place. If anyone finds this journal, please send these notes to my superiors at the East Empire Company and tell my wife that I love her._

_May Arkay guide me to my final rest._

Shaking her head, Valkari shut the journal and pocketed it. Even a thief like herself knew better than to go picking up strange things in tombs, nothing good ever came of it. Or maybe that was just the nord in her. Either way, Gratian had brought his death upon himself with his recklessness, but it did prove that the East Empire Company had covered it up. That was all Crescius would need to get compensation in the end. And that was what she needed to get paid.

Still it sounded like the best course of action now was to find this Bloodskal Blade and use it to open the door. Hopefully it would get her back outside. After all, if the Ancient Nords could be counted on for one thing, it was having a backdoor of some sort.

Sure enough the blade was resting nearby in the stream, somehow unrusted despite having surely rested there for at least two centuries. When Valkari hoisted it up, it emitted a faint humming sound, like music.

“You’d better not be calling more draugr,” she grunted, making her way over to the door. The blade was ridiculously heavy, as expected for a two-handed weapon, and it took every bit of strength Valkari had to swing it. Each time she did, the blade emitted the ribbon of energy that Gratian had mentioned in his journal, and when it struck the grooves in the door, parts of it shifted and moved until a glowing red groove formed up its centre. Valkari swung the blade down once more and the door rumbled, parting to reveal a passage beyond.

She left the blade on the pedestal as she proceeded. It was too heavy to carry back, and she’d rather not have more angry draugr chasing after her for it. As it so happened, draugr weren’t the worst thing she could have run into.

The passage led into a vast chamber. Most of it was taken up by a large pool with a platform leading out into the centre with a sarcophagus standing at its edge, and at the far end of the chamber was a Word Wall. Not something she expected to see, but Miraak’s temple couldn’t be the only site that the Dragon Cult had on Solstheim.

Suddenly the sarcophagus’ lid flew off and crashed into the pool as a skeletal figure emerged from within. Draped in a robe of scales with a leather-like membrane stretching between its arms and its legs, the Dragon Priest rose into the air with a shriek.

Valkari drew her shadowcloak around her, ducking out of sight as its masked face turned to survey the chamber, searching for the intruder that had entered its lair. It was different from the priest that she had encountered at Skuldafn. Its mask was less human, more amphibian, with narrow slits for the eyes and nose and spines decorating its fringe. Its skeletal fingers appeared to be webbed, and it was covered in a fine layer of… something. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was.

The Priest began to float out over the water, its breath rattling from behind its mask.

Valkari nocked an arrow and crept along the edge of the chamber, aiming for the slot under its mask where its neck was. Surprise gave her an advantage. The Priest, caught by surprise, screeched as the arrow nearly severed its spinal cord, leaving its head nearly hanging off, held on only by a few threads of sinew.

It raised a hand, throwing a ball of lightning in her direction. She rolled out of its path behind a toppled pillar. She waited a moment, letting it draw closer, then leapt out as she heard the rattling of its breath closing in.

“IIZ SLEN NUS!”

The burst of ice erupted from her lips and rapidly encased the Priest. It promptly fell to the ground and Valkari shattered it with the hilt of her blade. Somehow its mask survived - some sort of magical enchantment perhaps? - and Valkari slipped it into her bag. No point in leaving a hole in her collection.

With the immediate danger having passed, Valkari approached the Word Wall. Like the others, a wailing cry emanated from within. She ran her hand over the runes, and felt the power thrumming within the wall.

Qah. Armour.

The voices murmured, but none reached out to speak to her this time, opting instead to keep their advice to themselves.

‘About time,’ Valkari thought, turning away. There was a staircase leading upwards on the other end of the chamber. Hopefully it would be her way out.

[]

The stench of burning bodies washed over Valkari as she walked along the coastline back to Raven Rock. She narrowed her eyes, trying not to choke on the stink as she raised her scarf over her face. She spotted the source soon enough. A fight had obviously happened here, and not too long ago.

Numerous bodies lay across the stony shore, many of them burnt beyond recognition. Ruined weapons were scattered amongst them, and many were still in their ruined armour which had been dented and slashed at with a blade. Not the townsfolk then. Mercenaries perhaps?

It took her a moment to realise she wasn’t the only one still breathing amongst the bodies. Bent over one of them was a dunmer in chitin armour - she’d seen Reavers around the island wearing similar. He had dark hair worn in a mohawke, purple tattoos across his face, and a short, closely clipped beard. He had a bloodied sword hanging from his hip, and Valkari raised a brow. His doing then it seemed.

The mer seemed to realise he wasn’t alone and looked up at her. He cocked a brow, mirroring her expression.

“What are you gawking at?” he asked, smirking. “Not seen such a handsome dunmer in your life?”

“Sorry, I don’t see anyone here but you,” she deadpanned. “What are _you_ doing here? Scavenging?”

The mer straightened up, dusting himself off.

“I’m just doing my job,” he said casually, as though he wasn’t standing over a good dozen bodies with no sign of any sort of backup in sight. “That’s all. You stick to your business, and we’ll get along just fine.”

“Right, because your killing this many people single handedly without a reason shouldn’t make me wary,” she pointed out. “For all I know, you’re a reaver.”

The mer chuckled, shaking his head. “No reaver could ever hope to be half as handsome.”

“As who? You’re still the only person I see here.”

“Well well, a nord with a sharp wit. I didn’t think I’d ever see one of those,” he remarked. He was definitely amused, but growing tired of her questions. “Like I said, you stick to your business, and we’ll both be fine.”

He turned back to the bodies, bending over one and searching through their pockets - the ones that had survived anyway. Valkari watched him carefully then, whilst his back was still turned, quickly ducked down to do the same. On one body she found a few lockpicks, a coin purse (which she emptied into her own), and a singed note. She stuffed it into her pocket.

“Whatever,” she said disinterestedly as she strolled past the mer back towards Raven Rock. “You have fun scavenging.”

“I always do, Red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...okay I took forever again, BUT at least it didn't take me six months this time... right?


	5. March of the Dead

Valkari’s first stop was Crescius’ home, one of the imperial-style houses closest to the bulwark. When she knocked on the door it was his wife who answered. All she said was that she needed to speak with Crescius. One had to give the mer credit for not asking questions and letting her inside in spite of the dirt and grime.

Crescius was seated by the fireplace, the perfect picture of an elderly man until he glanced over, saw Valkari trudge inside, and bounced to his feet, alive with nervous energy.

“You're back! Please, tell me what you found!" he said excitedly, eyes glinting with mad anticipation.

Aphia sighed, looking over at Valkari. “Please tell me that he didn’t drag you into this madness.”

Valkari just held up the journal and sighed. “He did. And the old fool was right. Here’s Gratian’s journal.”

“Let me see that!” he barked, snatching the journal out of her hand and flipping it open, pacing up and down as he read it. Then he stopped dead and  _ whooped _ . “Ha, I knew it! Gratian's death wasn't because of a rockfall, it was just a story to keep people away from the tombs. Now that I have his journal in hand, I can get some closure from the East Empire Company. Make them pay for lying to everyone."

“Well good luck with that old man,” Valkari said flatly. “Now I believe we discussed payment.”

Whilst Aphia took the journal from her over-exuberant husband to inspect it for herself, Crescius scuttled over to the fire place and took a small coin purse from the hearth. He pressed it into Valkari’s hand.

"Thank you. It's not much, but it's the best an old, retired miner can do."

“There is one more thing,” she said, pocketing the coin. “I believe you have something of Glover’s.”

Immediately Crescius’ face darkened. 

"The damn fool doesn't even deserve to have it! The pickaxe was made for mining, not selling. I'll bet he stole it from the Skaal in the first place," he spat.

“And I fought a Dragon Priest to get you that journal, I don’t think it would kill you to consider the pickaxe a part of my payment,” Valkari shot back.

Aphia’s head jerked up from the journal.

“What? There was a Dragon Priest down there?” she exclaimed, fixing Crescius with a very sharp glare. “Just give her what she asked for Crescius, besides you know very well that that pickaxe doesn’t even belong to you!”

"Bah, fine!” He marched over to a nearby barrel and pulled out the pickaxe. He thrusted it into Valkari’s hands. “Tell him I hope he drops the thing on his foot."

Valkari simply nodded and left, thinking of nothing more than falling into a bed and letting her aching body rest.

Glover was pleased to have his pickaxe back and propped it up just by his front door, like he was daring Crescius to try and take it again. Valkari wouldn’t put it past him to be so open in his pettiness. And he was the more mature of the Mallory brothers.

But her concerns were elsewhere right now. After washing herself off and stripping off her grimy armour in favour of a soft shirt and breeches, she sat on the bed Glover was lending her and pulled out the note she’d gotten off of the dead mercenary.

It was singed and bloody, but thankfully still readable as she peeled it open. In smeared ink it read:

_ Wait at Bloodskaal Barrow until further orders. I will try and infiltrate the town until the other group makes their move. _

_ Ramodo _

She cocked an eyebrow. Not a name she knew. And she wasn’t familiar enough with Raven Rock to even guess where to look. When she asked Glover, he seemed as perplexed as she was.

“I’ve not heard of anyone by that name passing through here,” he said, scratching his chin.

“And you’ve not seen anyone unusual lately? Besides me,” she added bluntly, before he got the chance to remark.

“Hm… Well, there are those mercenaries who’ve been around the island lately,” he said slowly. “They’re here on a job from what I’ve heard. They put up notices down at the docks. Call themselves the Sea Tiger.”

Valkari snorted, and even Glover couldn’t resist the curl of his lip.

“If there’s anyone in town who might know more about this, it’ll be Captain Veleth,” he went on. “He’s the closest thing Raven Rock has to a port authority for now, so if anyone could point you in the right direction, it’s him.”

“ _ If _ I decide to chase this up,” Valkari yawned, leaning back in her chair. “It’s not my business.”

Which she knew was downright bullshit, considering the next morning, having still not received any word from Storn, she asked around for Veleth. She’d long since abandoned any pretense of keeping her nose out of business that wasn’t her’s. Somewhere during the Dragon Crisis, something had changed, and it was practically second nature to her to go digging through someone else’s mess, even without the assurance of a cash reward. Not that she wouldn’t ask for one anyway.

“I saw the Captain heading out beyond the Bulwark with a couple of men,” said one of the merchants when she asked, pointing down the road. “No one really knows why though. The Captain prefers to keep matters within the guard unless the townsfolk need to be on alert.”

“Thanks for the information.” She laid a few gold septims on the merchant’s table, which he took gratefully with a bow of his head.

“Good fortune Serah.”

Beyond the Bulwark, the road was barely visible amongst the ash drifts, cobbled stone just peeking out from beneath the thick dusty layer. The trail left by Veleth and his men was easy enough to follow, though the ash was already beginning to settle over the prints as well.

Finding the Captain wasn’t hard though, not when bursts of flame and the ringing of swords erupted from up the road. Valkari grabbed her bow and set off at a sprint, kicking up clouds of ash as the scene came into view.

There were bodies of numerous guards left lying in the ash, smouldering from between the chinks in their armour as if they’d been burned alive inside. The stench of burning flesh definitely agreed. Amongst the corpses was a long dunmer in armour more elaborate than those on the ground - Captain Veleth then. He swung his axe hard at one of his attackers, cleaving its head off, and as Valkari got a better look, she realised they weren’t reavers. They were human shaped, but the similarities ended there. Instead of skin, they had plates of ash with glowing red seams, like rivers of lava running over their bodies, all meeting at a glowing core in their chests. They carried weapons that looked like they were crudely shaped from volcanic glass, and currently they were beating Veleth back into the remains of a ruined house.

Valkari fired an arrow at the one closest to Veleth before it could amble in through the doorway. It shrieked and turned in her direction, apparently unperturbed by the arrow now sticking out through its neck. Her next shot she aimed for the glowing spot in its chest.

The core flickered and turned black, and the creature crumbled down into dust, weapon disintegrating with it. It’s companions turned to Valkari - even the now headless one - and Veleth took the chance to swing his axe through the back of another of the creatures, the edge digging in deep enough to slash through the core. Like the first, it blackened and the creature promptly disintegrated.

“Shouldn’t have made your weak point so obvious,” Valkari murmured, nocking another arrow and aiming for the last of the creatures.

The arrow sunk deep into the core and like the others before it, the third creature fell. Valkari glanced around, but there was no sign of anymore. Even so she didn’t put her bow away as she approached Veleth.

The Captain was sweated and his face was flushed with effort. He lifted his axe to inspect it. Its edge was now blackened and ruined, distorted from heat by the looks of it. He shook his head, shouldering the weapon again before turning to Valkari.

"Thanks... I wasn't sure I'd make it off this farm alive. I wish I could have said the same for my man here." He gestured to the bodies lying in the ash, his brow furrowed and face angled downwards.

“What were those things?” Valkari asked, waving her bow towards the ash piles that had her arrows sticking out of them. She moved to retrieve them.

"Some of the Redoran Guard have taken to calling them 'ash spawn.' Me? I don't care what they're called... all I know is they're a danger to Raven Rock and they need to be stopped."

“Can’t argue with that.” She pulled out an arrow and, like Veleth’s axe, it was distorted and ruined. Useless. “So why start here?”

"I was going to search for clues that might lead me to wherever they're coming from,” said Veleth. “I know it isn't the best place to start, but we know they've been coming from this direction."

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,” Valkari said idly. “I could lend a hand… for a price.”

"Hmm.” He scratched his chin. “I think I could talk the councilor into paying you, and I could use an extra pair of hands."

“So where do I start?”

"We were searching the farm when the ash spawn ambushed us. Have a look around and see if you can turn up anything useful."

He stepped into the ruins of the farmhouse to take a look around inside. Valkari arched an eyebrow but turned to the ash piles of the former ash spawn. Her other arrows were as ruined as the first, but they still provided some use in sifting through the hot ashes.

To think she’d started out looking for the Guard Captain to look into the mercenaries, now she was dealing with monsters instead. Really this was getting to be a far too typical part of her life now.

To her surprise, in amongst the piles of ash there was a charred piece of folded parchment. She plucked it up and carefully unfolded it.

_ Raven Rock Stronghold, _

_ My calls for the unconditional surrender of your forces and an immediate cessation of all hostilities have been ignored numerous times. I therefore have no choice but to assume your purpose on Solstheim is hostile, and to treat Raven Rock Stronghold as an enemy of the Empire. I warn you, any attempt to breach Fort Frostmoth will be met with an equal level of aggression. I will do everything in my power to wipe you and your forces off the face of Tamriel. There will be no further communications between us. _

_ General Falx Carius _

_ Garrison Commander, Fort Frostmoth _

“Have you found something?” called Veleth. 

Valkari simply held out the note and he crossed the room to take it. He took a moment to read it and his brow furrowed.

"This is strange. The note says it's from General Falx Carius, but that's impossible."

“How so?”

"Well, Carius was the Imperial garrison commander at Fort Frostmoth, but he died over 200 years ago when the Red Mountain leveled the place. There's no way he could still be alive."

“Unless something’s keeping him that way,” Valkari sighed, already resigning herself to the task she was surely about to be asked to undertake. And one she’d surely agree to out some insane sense of do-gooding. She decided to blame Lydia for rubbing off on her.

“Exactly. I need you to head out to Fort Frostmoth and check it out. I'm going to head back to Raven Rock and prepare the men for further assaults. Be careful, this General Carius sounds out of his mind."

[]

Fort Frostmoth was the sort of ruin that Skyrim’s bandits would have loved to take over, with high walls and half crumbled towers. Defensible and with plenty of vantage points. If not for the ash spawn and the undead General, Valkari didn't doubt that it'd be crawling with reavers. 

The ash made it all but impossible to get around unnoticed. Her Nightingale armour was enchanted to let her move around without leaving boot prints, but her leathers were another matter. The shadowcloak was practically useless when there was always a trail leading straight to her hiding place. So she decided there and then that she hated ash more than anything. Well except water perhaps.

Valkari moved through the fort’s chambers carefully. She’d gotten a glimpse of Carius from one of the upper balconies of the central tower, though the door was locked tight. It seemed even a two hundred year old lock could withstand a thief’s picks, so she was left searching for another way in.

The fort’s crypt looked as though it had been recently undisturbed from what Valkari could tell. The dust and ash had been disturbed recently, and one of the coffins had been cracked open. Sitting inside of it was a satchel and journal, but no body. And unlike everything else in the ruin, the bag and journal both looked relatively new with hardly any sort of wear. They hadn’t been buried with whoever’s coffin this was. And Valkari suspected she knew who had originally been laid to rest in it.

She picked up the journal and flipped it open.

_ Day 32 _

_ It's been almost a month since unearthing the crypt at Fort Frostmoth, and I haven't seen a single spark of life in the general's remains. Grafting the heartstone to the subject is proving much more difficult than I originally anticipated. I've used almost every method I can think of, and still there's no sign of reanimation. At this rate, it could be years before I make any progress... which is time that I just can't afford right now. If my vengeance is to come to fruition, I need results. If not, I may need to resort to more drastic measures. _

_ Day 47 _

_ It finally appears that I'm making some progress. After my latest experiment, General Carius' eyes briefly opened and he moved his arms. It lasted for less than a few moments, but it's the first sign of progress I've seen since I arrived here. A few of my assistants were insisting that I was imagining things, but I dismissed them for their insolence. They won't be bothering anyone ever again. _

_ Day 55 _

_ General Carius awoke fully today. He bolted upright after my incantations and began staggering around like a blind man. He seemed to ignore my commands... in fact, hearing my voice seemed to increase his hostility. I was able to remove the heartstone before he became violent, but this isn't a result that I expected. Even though he's able to be awakened, I feel as though the real work has just begun. _

_ Day 59 _

_ The general is still unable or unwilling to listen to my commands. He's acting increasingly paranoid, and appears to have his own free will. He's convinced that I am a "spy" or the "enemy," and I've had to restrain him to prevent him from outright attacking me. This is becoming intolerable. I'm beginning to wonder if someone with a heartstone can be commanded at all. If my experiments with General Carius fail, I may have to resort to self-experimentation... something I've been avoiding for a long time. _

“Mages,” Valkari huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just can’t leave well enough alone.”

At the very least it explained how Carius was up and walking about after dying two hundred years ago. It seemed the journal’s author had either ended up falling to him or, more likely, had abandoned their project and had gone elsewhere. 

Valkari pocketed the journal. Veleth might be interested to know that a necromancer was up to some sort of trouble on the island at any rate. She then checked the bag and found a heavy iron key.

“Well that takes care of the front door.”

Back out into the courtyard, and as predicted, the key turned in the lock and Valkari slipped into the central tower and headed up the spiral staircase leading up to the top floor. The door into the top chamber was locked too, but the key Valkari had found opened it up.

The chamber was circular, and as ruined as the rest of the fort. There was a sizable hole in the ceiling, and there were heaps of ash everywhere. And standing at the far end of the room, looking very much alive, was a man who could only be Falx Carius.

He was dressed in Imperial Armour, except it wasn’t quite the same as what the Imperial Legion used nowadays. The leather was damaged and worn, and the chestplate was cracked in half, with a large red crystal sitting in the centre, held in place with leather straps. He glowered at Valkari when she stepped inside.

"Fort Frostmoth will never fall! Long live the Empire!" he cried, lifting his warhammer.

“Fort Frostmoth fell over two hundred years ago, Carius,” Valkari said bluntly, slowly readying her bow. “The Red Mountain erupted and levelled the place, remember?”

“It will take a tongue far more clever than yours to fool me, snowback!” he snapped. “For the Emperor!”

He sprung forwards, raising his hammer over his head. Valkari darted out of his path, sidestepping him and loosing an arrow. It caught him in his armpit, sinking deep into the left side of his chest. But that meant little to someone who didn’t have a beating heart.

Carius’ hammer smashed into the flagstone floor and there was a resounding  _ CRACK! _ as the floor split under the weight of the blow. 

Valkari skirted backwards across the room, trying to keep distance between herself and Carius as he lifted the hammer again. She aimed her arrow at the crystal in his chest only for a groaning sound to snatch at her attention, just enough for her arrow to fly too high and stick through Carius’ jaw. He staggered backwards at the blow, but otherwise showed no signs that he even felt any pain.

Meanwhile Valkari just barely ducked out of the way as the tip of a black glass spear nearly skewered her though the ribs as several ash spawn rose from the floor. But ash spawn were apparently faster and smarter than they looked, as the spawn flipped the spear, aimed and then shot forwards, just managing to slash her in the side.

Valkari bit down a yelp and grunted through gritted teeth as she drew the dragonbone dagger and stabbed it through the spawn’s core. Immediately the fiery glow darkened and the spawn crumbled back into dust. Unlike her arrows and Veleth’s axe, however, the blade appeared to be unharmed. Useful.

She didn’t get time to wonder as Carius charged forwards with the hammer and swung it at Valkari’s head. 

She ducked and shouted: “FUS RO DAH!”

Carius was sent flying across the room as the ash was thrown up into the air. Valkari immediately drew the shadowcloak around her as her view of the room blurred. The dark shapes of Carius and the ash spawn shifted through the cloud of dust.

“What is this magic? Reveal yourself, villain!” barked Carius.

Valkari moved swiftly towards him, blade in hand, and she thrust the dagger into the crystal strapped to his chest. It promptly smashed, tiny red shards of gemstone bursting free and raining down over the floor just as the dust settled. Carius stared at it for a brief moment, then back up at Valkari as she flickered back into view, his eyes wide. 

His mouth hung open briefly then he collapsed to the ground. Dead once more.

[]

Valkari returned to Raven Rock after sloppily trying to bandage the wound in her side. Whatever that stone keeping Carius alive was, it had tied the ash spawn to him, and they had died with him, which was fortunate. After the rush of the battle died down, the numbness ebbed away and the shooting pain arrived in full force. It was times like this that being able to use some sort of healing magic would be useful. A shame she never inherited her mother’s magical aptitude.

Still she managed the long limp back to town and the moment she was in sight of the Bulwark, one of the Redoran guard came to her aid, slinging an arm around her waist and tugging her’s over their shoulder. She’d have protested, but it meant getting back faster and sitting down, so for that she’d bend her pride.

She was brought straight to the guard barracks, where Captain Veleth and Aphia were waiting.

"What news do you bring from Fort Frostmoth?" asked Veleth as Aphia began to treat the wound in Valkari’s side, cleaning and pressing healing magic into it, encouraging it to knit close.

“Carius is dead. Some necromancer was performing experiments but lost control,” she explained. “I took care of it. There shouldn’t be anymore ash spawn attacking Raven Rock.”

"I had my suspicions that he was undead. How else could he have survived for over 200 years? It's a shame. There are quite a few tales of General Carius's exploits, including the founding of Raven Rock. Still, you upheld your end of the bargain, and Councilor Morvayn told me to give this to you if you made it back in one piece... and you got rid of General Carius. Better than a soldier's pay, so you should be thankful."

He placed a rather large coin purse in her lap as Aphia finished her work and bowed herself out of the barracks, refusing any coin Valkari offered as she went.

“You’ve done more than enough for me and Crescius,” she said before leaving.

Veleth watched her leave before turning back to Valkari.

“Now, if that’s all, I should return to my duties.”

“Actually.” He paused. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s why I was looking for you in the first place.”

Veleth raised an eyebrow but gave her an expectant look.

“I found some mercenaries from a company calling themselves the Sea Tiger. They’d all been killed, and one of them had this note on his body,” she explained, holding the note out to Veleth.

Veleth swore under his breath as he read the note, pacing up and down the room.

“When the Sea Tiger first arrived they didn’t cause much trouble. Said they had a job on the island. Then a few weeks ago they suddenly turned. Launched an assault on the Retching Netch of all places,” he explained. “We drove them out of town, and they were quiet for a while. Every now and then they launch an attack on the Bulwark, but nothing we couldn’t deal with. They only started to back off when the ash spawn started attacking too.”

“So you’ve not had any trouble with them since?”

“No. But I doubt it’ll stay that way, not if some of their men have been killed. In my experience, it’s usually the quietest before the storm,” he said gravely.

“Can’t argue with that,” Valkari murmured, sitting up. “So. Where should I start?”

Veleth looked at her, somewhat surprised, then chuckled.

“At this rate, I might think you’re trying to take over from the whole Redoran Guard,” he joked.

“No thanks,” she replied, smirking. “I hear the pay is shite.”

“True enough. Well, if you really do want to help, I’d start by searching the abandoned buildings on the far side of town.”

Valkari nodded, getting to her feet. Aphia’s healing had left a dull throbbing in her side, but nothing that would slow her down much. She followed Veleth out of the barracks and headed towards the abandoned houses.

It was unsurprising that the abandoned homes were Imperial-styled. The dunmer just prefered their own architecture and it was better designed to handle the constant ashfall. The Imperial houses were under constant threat of the roofs caving in under the weight of the ash, which was all too evident when Valkari stepped inside and could practically hear the rafters groaning and whining.

“You’d damn well better not cave in on me,” she muttered. 

The downstairs area was deserted, but Valkari could see footprints in the dust heading towards the stairs in the next room. Someone had been here recently.

She followed the trail upstairs and came face to face with a large, brawny redguard man. He was leaning up against the wall, his whole body tense, and his gaze trained solely on her. She kept her expression cool as she dared to approach. From what she could tell, he wasn’t armed. Bad mistake.

He growled as she drew closer and she arched an eyebrow.

“Problem?” 

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “My problem is that I’m too tired to punch your face in.”

“Well isn’t that too bad,” she drawled. “I guess that means you’re too tired to tell me what it is you’re doing hiding in here. Or why you’re not with the rest of the Sea Tiger.”

His face twitched, and his glare deepened.

“There’s nothing to see here,” he said plainly, jerking his head. “So you might as well move along.”

“Oh? So I  _ don’t _ see a mercenary infiltrator standing right in front of me? One who’s with a company that attacked a tavern and got driven out of Raven Rock?” she said sarcastically. “You’re not… oh, what’s the word I’m looking for… A lawbreaker?”

It was ironic to hear herself say that, considering she flouted laws on a regular basis and built her entire career off of breaking every law that was put in front of her.

“Look you must have me confused with someone else.”

“I don’t think I do, _ Ramodo _ ,” Valkari said sharply, which was enough to make him flinch. “That  _ is _ your name on the note, right?”

He glared and readjusted his stance, still leaning against the wall but, surprisingly, a touch more relaxed.

“Okay yeah, that is me. But I’m not the one you should be trying to hunt down,” he said dismissively. “But I do know who you should be looking for. Who we’re looking for.”

“So the Sea Tiger is here to hunt someone down then?”

“Yeah, but I think he ran away. Must’ve realised we were getting too close to ignore,” he snorted. “Coward.”

“I don’t have time for games, just tell me what’s going on,” Valkari growled, hand resting on the grip of the Nightingale blade.

Ramodo shrugged and reached into his pocket. “Alright, I won’t lose any sleep if you get yourself killed. It’s all in this note.”

He pulled out a sheet of folded parchment and held it out to her. Valkari took it, eyeing Ramodo carefully, before unfolding it. He didn’t make any move to attack, just continued leaning against the wall and watching her.

_ Forget the treasure hunting! The criminal we’re after is worth over 20,000 gold. He served the Telvanni wizard on Solstheim, and is now an auxiliary to the Redoran Guard, so tread carefully. You need to discover where they keep this rat-faced scum, then bring him to me. My men will be waiting for you at Bloodskaal Barrow. _

_ Remember, I want him ALIVE. _

_ Sigrun _

She arched an eyebrow and looked back at Ramodo questioningly.

“So you’re here to help?” he asked. “I can’t do this all on my own.”

“Your boss thinks someone in Raven Rock is protecting a criminal?” she asked cautiously.

He nodded. “They’re keeping him somewhere, but I don’t know where. I don’t dare leave the house myself, so I need someone to find that proof for me.”

Valkari folded her arms over her chest.

“And that someone is me, isn’t it?”

Ramodo shrugged. 

“You’re the one who came looking for me,” he said teresely.

Valkari glared at him, then shrugged.

“I suppose I could ask the innkeeper. They always seem to know something.”

Ramodo practically balked at the suggestion, staring at her as though she’d suddenly grown a second head. Honestly, not even the oddest thing that would have happened to her at this point.

“Are you stupid or something?!” he barked, shaking his head. “If you go in there, you don’t come out. Ever. Catch my drift?”

“What, you’d rather I ask the guards?” she snapped. “I wonder what they’d say if they found you hiding in here.”

Ramodo said nothing, just glared silently.

“Look, why does your boss even care about this? 20,000 gold or not, it seems like a lot of trouble for one criminal.”

“That’s her business, not mine. I do as I’m told.”

“That kind of thinking can get you killed.” 

He just shrugged and she sighed.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

Ramodo nodded approvingly. “Good. I’ll have a sack of coin waiting for you when you get back.”

“Sounds good.”

He extended a hand, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she shook it firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at me getting better with these updates, didn't even take me a whole month this time ;D


	6. Glowstone Cave

The next day found several large (and familiar) black crows perched on Glover’s grindstone, and when Valkari emerged she came across the amusing sight of Glover trying to shoo them away. To no avail, of course.

“Stupid, fat featherless, we are here for the Nightingale,” the largest crow squawked, flapping his wings angrily, violet eyes flashing. “Now leave us, before we leave many droppings all over your stupid stones and dull metals and keep you awake at night with incessant cawing!”

“I doubt that’ll be necessary, Knight,” Valkari said. She patted Glover on the arm. “I’ve got this.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“What in Oblivion is going on Val?” he demanded, staring warily at the crows.

“They’re some friends. Nothing to worry about,” she replied vaguely. “I’ll handle it.”

She then turned to the Knight of Marrow, who puffed up his feathers at the sight of her and flapped his wings.

“It’s about time you arrived, Nightingale,” he squawked. “We have many important duties to be attending to.”

“Then why are you here, Knight?” she asked, trying not to pay attention to the passersby who were definitely staring at her, or the birds, or both.

“We were on a mission for the Duke when we encountered a stupid, witless raven,” he explained. “We learned he was to bring you a message. Ravens are useless at such things, of course, as he was to carry a letter rather than relay it himself.”

The other crows all cawed mockingly.

“I see. And where _is_ the raven?” she dared to ask.

“We plucked at his feathers and sent him screeching and flapping into the sky, far away!” the Knight of Marrow said proudly. “And we are here to relay his message like a proper corvid should!” He turned his head. “Knave of Rooks! The message!”

One of the smaller crows hopped forwards and cleared his throat.

“Dragonborn, I believe I may have learned something that will aid your efforts to reach Miraak and break his power here on Solstheim,” he cawed. “Please return to our village as soon as you are able. Storn Crag Strider.”

Valkari arched an eyebrow.

“You intercepted Storn’s raven just so you could tell me this personally? I thought you said you were running errands for the duke.”

“Errands?! We are on a very important mission for his Lordship! To collect shiny trinkets from many corners of your land and bring them back to him,” the Knight of Marrow affirmed indignantly. “But the stupid raven was so hapless, it was only appropriate to show it how to properly carry messages. So we must be off now to attend to our duties. Farewell Nightingale, eyes open and walk with the shadows.”

“Eyes open, Knight. Thanks for the message.”

The crows bobbed their heads and with a great flapping of wings, took off in a great black cloud before disappearing into the clouds above. Valkari couldn’t help an amused smirk. They might be a bunch of bird brains, but at least they were entertaining. Glover, however, seemed less amused.

“What just happened, Val?” he asked, perplexed from the whole exchange.

“Long story,” she said dismissively. “And one I’ve not got time for. Storn’s waiting.” And probably wondering where his raven was.

Storn was sitting outside of his cabin, a large raven sitting beside him as he tied a scroll of parchment to its leg. He was grumbling under his breath and almost barely afforded to look up as Valkari approached. When he did, he blinked in astonishment, looking between her and the raven.

“Dragonborn, how did-”

“I got your message,” she said shortly. “By less conventional means, but I doubt it matters now. You have something for me?”

Storn stared, still confused, but evidently decided to put the thought to one side.

“I do, though it is not as substantial as I would like,” he confessed. "Our lore does not speak of the Black Books. But they and Miraak are connected. You read one, and saw him. And the book's power comes from the same dark source as that which corrupted the Wind Stone.”

“But you don’t know _what_ they are, or how they’re connected?” Valkari sighed.

Storn shook his head wearily. “No. But I believe I know of someone who may know more.”

He seemed hesitant to continue, but sighed and said: “The Dark Elf Wizard, Neloth... He came to us some time ago, asking about Black Books. I believe he knows a great deal about them. Perhaps too much. Seek him out to the south. But be cautious, Dragonborn. There is still much we do not know, and such wizards care little for consequence. Be sure to tread carefully.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Where do I find Neloth?”

“His tower is to the south, along the shore. It will be easy enough to find.”

He didn’t sound very happy about that fact.

Another trek across the ash wastes to the south and Valkari suddenly understood why Storn said the tower would be easy enough to find. She’d heard of the strange towers owned by the Telvanni, but never really believed everything people said. And yet here she was, staring up at three tower-sized mushrooms - the central tower was the tallest, whilst the two flanking it were only half its height. Natural walkways carved, or more likely grown, from their stems led up to the doors leading into each tower, and outside in the courtyard (at least Valkari presumed it was a courtyard) were a pair of mer. One was dressed in mage robes and currently thumbing his way through a book, whilst the woman next to him was dressed more like the stewards Valkari saw in Skyrim. A smart olive-green dress accompanied with a warm fur cloak.

"Why are you out here Talvas? Master Neloth is away. Aren't you supposed to stay in the tower?" she asked curtly, hands on hips and giving him a very stern look.

"If you must know, I'm trying to get this Ash Guardian spell to work. Now let me concentrate. Besides, shouldn't you be worrying about the damage to the tower?" he retorted, not looking up.

"Master Neloth has tasked Elynea with repairing the tower. Why aren't you doing this in the lab, where it would be safer for all of us?"

"The, uh... the lab is too small. Also, I need the ashy soil. Master Neloth told me to practice this spell while he's away. No need to tell him about it when he gets back. He knows all about this."

"It's on your head if something goes wrong,” she said sharply.

She turned to leave, but then caught sight of Valkari and raised an eyebrow before approaching, giving Talvas a warning look as she passed.

“We don't get many visitors. I am Varona Nelas, the steward here at Tel Mithryn. Is there something you need?" she asked.

“I’m looking into something here on Solstheim, and I was told Neloth might be able to help me,” Valkari explained. “It’s about the Black Books.”

Varona looked surprised for a moment, then quickly settled on a more neutral expression.

“I see. Master Neloth has indeed been studying the Black Books as of late. However he’s not here right now. He said he was looking into something. Studying something I believe, considering the tools he took with him.”

“Do you know where he went? I need to speak with him, the sooner the better.”

Varona shook her head. “I’m sorry, he didn’t say where he was going. He rarely does. If you’d like, I can tell him that you asked for him when he returns,” she offered. “Though I doubt he’d care much.”

“Would he care if you told him it was the Dragonborn asking, and that she had a Black Book?”

That caught her attention. She looked briefly taken aback, staring at Valkari curiously, and so Valkari responded by pulling out Waking Dreams. Varona instinctively stepped back, as if repulsed by it.

“I… I see,” she said, quickly recomposing herself. “I will inform him when he returns. I am sure he would be fascinated to learn where you obtained… that.”

Valkari nodded and tucked the book back into her pack. “I’m staying with Glover Mallory. Send word there when Neloth gets back. Whether he’s interested in speaking with me or not.”

[]

It was dark, and Valkari was barely through the Bulwark when screaming erupted from the docks. She barely got a look at what was going on when an arrow whistled past her head, passing close enough to ruffle her hair before it flew by and stuck in a nearby post. People were shouting and townsfolk were running for the cover of the buildings as bandits - no, mercenaries - were leaping out of boats moored to the docks. Either the Redoran Guard had gotten sloppy, or the mercs were smarter than they seemed.

Nearby the Redoran Guard were rallying whilst Captain Veleth was barking orders as he carried his half-ruined axe in hand.

Valkari drew her bow as the mercenary that had fired at her leapt from the boat he was in and shot another arrow. She sidestepped and caught the arrow as it passed, twirled it in her fingers and nocked it, firing it back. The merc’s face was paralysed in shock as his own arrow stuck deep into his chest and he stumbled backwards, falling down the space between the boat and the dock with a splash. But there were more where he came from.

“So much for working together, eh Ramodo?” she growled under her breath, darting into the shadows of the buildings as more mercenaries poured from the docks into the town.

As one rushed past she drew her dragonbone dagger and grabbed her from behind, slitting her throat before quickly stabbing her friend. The impossibly sharp blade sunk through their chainmail with ease and pierced their heart. They quivered with shock for a moment before hitting the ground.

The air rang with the clashing of steel as the fighting spilled into the street, guards charging into battle, and whilst the mercenaries clearly outnumbered them, the guards were definitely better trained and better armed. Valkari slipped through the battlefield invisibly with the shadowcloak, watching for a moment that a guard might be in need of a little extra help or for when a mercenary was completely unsuspecting and that much easier to kill. No one was going to notice a few boot prints in the ash after all.

It didn’t take either side long to realise that something was going on as more and more mercs fell suddenly with a red line across their throat or a deep wound dug into their back. The mercs fought harder than ever, brandishing their weapons more wildly, on the off chance they managed to strike down their invisible foe. Unfortunately for them, Valkari was more than used to relying on being agile in a fight and darted out of their way with ease. And the renewed throbbing in her side reminded her why getting hit was a bad thing.

Then one of the mercs moved too fast for her to react, swinging her axe back to aim at the guard in front of her, and it caught Valkari in the side. The tender skin of the freshly healed wound tore open and blood spurted over the axe, and she was barely able to bite down on the yell of pain, forcing it into a grunt. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the mercenary whose eyes snapped onto the space Valkari occupied.

She swivelled and swung the axe towards her, aiming for where her neck was. Being short served Valkari, as she ducked out of its way with ease, though the split in her side screamed with agony, warm wet blood plastering leather to skin. Seeing red, Valkari seized the Nightingale blade and darted in close, ramming the blade up through the mercenary’s’ jaw.

She went rigid, gasping and gurgling as she tried to push the blade away, blood bubbling from her mouth and weeping from her fingers as the blade’s edge cut into them. Then she slumped forwards, and Valkari stepped away, letting her slip off of the blade.

The guard the mercenary had engaged rushed forward and grabbed Valkari, keeping her upright and it was then she realised that she was no longer invisible.

“You’re real crazy, you know that Red,” the guard grunted, dragging her off to one side.

Valkari frowned. She knew that voice, didn’t she? She tried to place it, but she was dazed from the pain and blood loss and was struggling to keep her eyes open. Injured twice in two days.

‘So much for good luck,’ she thought.

She felt hands undoing her jerkin and she automatically went for her dagger, holding it to the guard’s throat.

“Touch me and I _will_ gut you,” she growled. One bit of clarity in amongst the haze.

“Don’t be an idiot, I need to heal your wound,” he snapped.

“Don’t. Touch me,” she spat. The edge of the dagger’s blade drew a few beads of blood from his neck and he tensed.

“Listen,” he said with a forced evenness. “If I don’t at least stop the bleeding, you’ll bleed out. Let me do that much, and then we’ll get you to Aphia so she can close the wound properly. Sound good?”

She paused for a moment, now vaguely aware that Veleth was bellowing for his men to give chase. Were the mercs giving up?

“Fine,” she mumbled. “But only stop the bleeding. Anything else, and I’ll kill you.”

“Your call, Red,” he said teresely.

He peeled back the torn leather of her jerking to get to the wound and, with surprising gentleness, started working healing magic into the wound. Not enough to close it, but just enough to stop the blood from gushing out of her. Like he promised.

He drew his hand away and then produced a length of red cloth and pressed it into the wound.

“Let’s get you to Aphia's place, Crazy,” he huffed.

“What, not Red?” she snorted, letting him lever her back up.

“Not after threatening someone for trying to _heal_ you.”

The shouting was distant now, Veleth still shouting his orders as the guard helped Valkari limp through the town and towards Crescius’ home.

The door opened the moment they were close and Aphia beckoned them inside, her face pale and worried. She shut the door the moment they were over the threshold and helped the guard to guide Valkari over to a cot pushed up against the wall, close to the fireplace.

“Crescius, I’ll need my things,” she said sharply, not even bothering to look around as the guard lowered Valkari onto the cot.

For maybe the first time in his life, Crescius didn’t argue and did as he was told. He came back with a small box of supplies, though Valkari couldn’t really tell what any of it was. The guard moved to stand by the front door, leaning up against the doorframe whilst Aphia worked and Crescius assisted her, usually by handing her whatever she requested.

The sounds of battle and the shouting receded and Valkari felt the worst of the pain receding and numbing. She barely even realised that she’d fallen asleep, only stirring hours later when the first lights of dawn crept in through the windows. Or at least she thought it was dawn. Then her eyes fluttered open and immediately shut again when they stung under the light. Perhaps it was later than dawn then.

She sat up and was rewarded with a sharp, shooting pain in her side. She grunted, gritting her teeth. She’d endured worse pains, and she’d do it again.

“You’re awake, good.” Aphia made a beeline to the cot, pushing back her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Could be worse,” Valkari replied, moving to stand, but Aphia pushed her back down to sit.

“You’ll make it worse if you don’t give yourself a chance to rest,” she said sharply.

“I don’t have time to rest,” Valkari retorted. “Give me a healing potion or something and I can get moving.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Too bad, because it’s how I work.” Valkari got to her feet, ignoring Aphia’s protests. “I’ve got work to do. I won’t waste more time sitting in bed.”

And she walked out, not listening as Aphia tried to call her back. She knew she should probably show a bit more gratitude. She had just gone through the trouble of tending her wounds after all, but Valkari was hardly the patron saint of patience.

Raven Rock had returned to business as usual, though the townspeople were definitely on edge in the wake of the attack. The merchants were jumpy and on edge, there were more guards than ever, and everyone seemed to be glancing over their shoulders, as if waiting for the next attack to come at any moment.

Valkari’s first stop was the alchemist’s stall run by Milore Ienth, who was more than happy to sell her a couple of healing potions. There was a warm tingling in her side as the potions did their job, and next she headed for the docks.

Currently they were on lockdown but apparently Captain Veleth had told his men to let Valkari through should she appear, so they stood by and let her through.

“Ah, there you are,” Veleth said in relief. “Sero told me that he got you to Aphia. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks,” she said, shrugging. “So, what happened exactly?”

“We’re still piecing it all together,” he sighed. “They turned up in boats just after nightfall, all covered up in tarps, then leapt out before we got the chance to verify them. Simple, but apparently effective.”

“Any idea what they were hoping to achieve with this?”

“Not sure yet. We’re still surveying the damage. We’ve got the bodies over at the temple until we can deal with them. You’re free to search them for anything that might help us find out what they were doing.”

[]

It seemed the temple’s head priest wasn’t exactly happy with the arrangement of having dead mercs being kept in his temple, but had been placated with the assurance that they would be burned soon enough. It was just a precautionary measure until the guard had ensured the town was better secured in the event of another attack.

Valkari was led into the antechamber where the bodies had been moved and was welcomed with the vastly unpleasant stink of bodies that were beginning to waste. They were laid out in rows, armour battered and bloody from the previous night’s battle.

She moved amongst them, searching pockets and pouches until she found a note folded up in one of them.

_You are to distract them whilst my agents enter the jails. Try not to get killed. I won’t be there to save you_

_-Sigrun_

“Have your people burn the letters next time, Sigrun,” Valkari snorted, tucking the letter back into her pocket. Still she had a lead on where to go next and so headed back to the docks to find Veleth.

“Did you find anything?” he asked when he saw her approach.

“It was a distraction. The mercenaries’ leader had people getting into the jails whilst this lot kept the guard busy,” she explained. “They’re looking for a criminal here in Raven Rock.”

Clearly not what Veleth had expected, as his eyes widened.

“Excuse me?!” he exclaimed, folding his arms over his chest, giving her a disbelieving look.

“Supposedly he has quite the bounty on his head. 20,000 gold pieces, or more. That’s why they’ve been attacking,” she went on. “If I help them catch him, they should leave Raven Rock alone.”

Veleth’s brow furrowed and he stared hard at the ground, mulling the idea over in his head.

“I don’t like the thought of some criminal scum hiding under my nose… And I like the idea of these mercenaries attacking again even less. If you think catching him will make them stop…”

“There’s no profit in attacking the town otherwise,” Valkari pointed out. “They get what they want, and they leave. Simple as that.”

He sighed.

“Alright. You have my permission.” He pulled out a ring of keys and detached one, holding it out to Valkari. “I’m not sure why they’re interested in the jails; we’ve not even got anyone locked up in there at the moment, but. Well. This will give you access to the cells. Tell my men I sent you, and they’ll let you through.”

She took the key, deciding not to comment on the irony of him giving a criminal a key to the jail. The less he knew about her true profession, the better.

There was only one guard on duty in the jail, which was, as Veleth said, empty. A guard actually seemed rather redundant right now.

“And what do you think you’re doing here, Red?” he asked.

“Whatever I feel like, Sero.” He twitched at that. “Veleth mentioned you when I spoke to him earlier. What happened to Crazy?”

He relaxed. Slightly. “I might switch up between them every now and then. Even when you’re not half-conscious from blood loss, you’re obviously out of your mind.”

“Whatever. Veleth gave me permission to search the jail. Apparently the mercs managed to slip in during the attack.”

And there was the tension again.

“Did they now?” he said slowly. “Fine. Just be quick about it. I’d hate to have to drag your arse back to Aphia, considering you’d be threatening me the entire time.”

She ignored him and unlocked the cell, stepping inside.

It was like every other cell that Valkari had ever seen in Skyrim. Solid walls, a high ceiling, a single cot and the bars of the door. Except most other jails didn’t have a fireplace. Especially not one that looked clean. Valkari arched an eyebrow and knelt down to inspect it.

Pushing aside the freshly cut logs, she found what she was looking for. A grate leading down into a tunnel beneath the cell. No doubt one of the conveniently placed escape tunnels dug out by some of the previous occupants of the cell that the guards hadn’t discovered and filled in. Every jail she’d ever seen had one, even the supposedly impenetrable Cidhna Mine. It was worth a look, she decided.

So she unlocked the grate and dropped down into the passage below. It was cold and dark, and she reached into her pack to pull out a lantern. It’s dim orange glow barely lit the space, but at least gave her some sense of where she was going.

The tunnels were narrow, and there were signs of recent passage. The floor, which largely consisted of pebbles and rocks, showed imprints of boots and had clearly been disturbed. Stone columns formed the walls, not dissimilar to the cliffs that overlooked Raven Rock from the north.

She walked for nearly an hour until the sound of running water reached her ears, and she came to a cavern with a waterfall tumbling from one wall and forming a pool over most of the room. There were a couple of netches hovering lazily above the ground, and they didn’t pay her much mind as she passed, just rumbling with that low noise they made that made Valkari’s skull vibrate uncomfortably.

Through another tunnel and Valkari came to what appeared to be what little remained of a nordic ruin. It was just a half collapsed bridge and a few old statues, but they were distinctive enough for her to recognise the stonework as that of the ancient nords. She stepped out onto the bridge, and it held steady enough.

She walked out a little further, when a voice called out: “so what do we have here?”

She spun towards the source of the voice and standing in the shadows at the end of the bridge was an argonian, dressed in dark leathers and hooded. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I take it we’re both here for the same reason?” she replied, not daring to get too close. Just in case.

“For the Redoran Contract. Yes… Not that there’s anything that can be done about it,” he grunted, shaking his head.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You have no idea,” he snorted. “It was a suicide mission. Outnumbered twenty to one, and he still got the better of us. But I’m sure you heard about that.”

Valkari frowned. “Maybe. I might have even seen it.” It wasn’t a comfortable feeling that was settling in her stomach, but rather one of dread. She decided to get closer, slowly making her way over. “But maybe you can fill me in. What exactly is the Sea Tiger? I’ve not heard of any mercenary company by that name before.”

“It’s not the name of the company, but the ship their leader captains. I was only just hired on for this contract. The ship is headed this way from Windhelm, or at least that’s what the rumour is,” he said, shrugging.

“Look, I just want this mess sorted as much as the rest of you do. Tell me what to do and where to go, and I can get it done.”

He took a moment to think it over, regarding her suspiciously.

“Ramodo asked for my help,” she added, and it seemed to win him over.

“Ramodo? Then things are more desperate than I realised,” he commented. “Fine. Fine. Take this, it opens a door further back through the tunnels. It leads into Glowstone Hall. From what I can tell, that’s where the target’s been hiding out.” He pressed a key into her hand. It looked practically ancient, rusted and heavy. “Just don’t blame me if he kills you.”

Valkari was able to persuade the argonian to lead her to the door, but he refused to go any further. Clearly the prospect of facing this criminal frightened him, and if Valkari was right with her suspicions, he had reason to be.

So she went into Glowstone Hall alone. Like the tunnels, the walls were composed of the same columns of black stone, and the floor was uneven and difficult to navigate in places. It was that unevenness that hid the runes.

If anything Valkari was glad for her apparent resilience to fire that came as a result of her being Dragonborn, as the flames simply licked over her harmlessly when the rune exploded. The blast knocked her off her feet, but otherwise she was unharmed. Pure luck, it seemed, though the vengeful aching pain in her side disagreed.

After that, she was more careful to watch out for runes left on the ground and skirted her way around them, making her way through the caverns with careful ease until she came to the main chamber.

There were a couple of old nordic-style buildings below, overgrown with moss and apparently abandoned long ago. Except the runes clearly showed that someone didn’t want anyone reaching them.

Valkari jumped down to the floor, side aching slightly on impact. She turned to the closer of the two buildings and, keeping her lantern aloft, she made her way inside. The passage looped around the outside of an inner circular room, and someone had made a camp inside. There was a firepit in the centre of the room, burning low and throwing long shadows over the walls. By the wall there was a bedroll and knapsack, and then there was a stone table strewn with bottles of drink, maps, potion bottles, among other things.

Valkari picked up one of the drink bottles - it was some sort of dunmer concoction, evidently, and on the bottle’s label it read ‘ _Sadri’s Sujamma._ ’ She cocked an eyebrow and set the bottle down again.

Lying on the table there was a folded, bloody piece of parchment. She carefully picked it up and peeled it open, and staring up at her was a familiar face.

**_By Order of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm_ **

**_WANTED_ **

**_TELDRYN SERO_ **

**_25.000 SEPTIMS REWARD_ **

Ulfric Stormcloak. This notice was over ten years old then. But if the bounty was never formally erased, it didn’t matter who had issued it or if they were dead. It still stood. And that meant…

“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you Red?”

Valkari glared, setting the bounty down before slowly turning around. Standing there, sword drawn, was Teldryn, now without his helmet and Redoran guard armour. His face was set, grim and serious.

“Don’t fight back, and I promise I’ll kill you quickly,” he growled.

Valkari just crossed her arms, keeping one hand on the handle of the Nightingale blade.

“You say that like you really think you _could_ kill me,” she snorted. “Or do you really think that I’m just another one of those thugs?”

“You might have everyone else fooled, but I see what you’re doing here,” he spat. “The call of gold sends you scurrying like a rat.”

“A rat who rather likes living, thank you,” she said coolly. “But like I said. I’m not with the mercs.”

“I’ve heard this song before, and I’m already tired of it, Red,” he said, holding his sword at the ready. "Now. Enough talk. I've not come this far just to be screwed over by some smart-arse nord who doesn't know how to keep her nose out of what doesn't concern her."

She met his gaze, her own expression cool and calculated.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Valkari drew her blade and shot forwards, slashing at him with the Nightingale blade, but he was fast and parried the blow. She darted back, side-stepping, leaping in for the next attack, and again he blocked. He aimed for her head, the blade skimming her cheek as she ducked and slashed at his knees and he yelled, staggering back before recovering. She moved out of his reach again, but he followed with a dogged determination, matching her blow for blow.

He was good with a blade, she’d give him that, and almost definitely more practised than she was. But she still had speed on her side. Being small gave her an advantage. For every one of her blows he parried, one of his would miss. But then her impatience got the better of her.

Her side sent out a sudden, sharp, aching pain and she stumbled. Teldryn caught her wrist and deftly flicked the blade from her grasp, and it went clattering across the floor. She stepped back, out of reach again, but he followed.

“It’s just too bad it had to end like this Red,” he said calmly. “A waste of skill. And a pretty face.”

That tweaked a nerve and she scowled. Without even thinking, she Shouted.

“FUS RO DAH!”

Teldryn was sent flying across the room and crashed into the far wall, hard enough that the stonework cracked on impact. He fell to the ground, winded, and Valkari wasted no time in crossing the room and picking up his blade. She looked down at him, smirking, and he caught his breath long enough to look back at her, his face a mix of shock, indignation, and awe. She held the tip of the sword to his throat, and she _swore_ she could see him sweating. It pleased her more than it should have.

“Maybe be more careful about who you condescend,” she said smugly. “Especially when that someone killed a World Eater.”

He glowered, but before she could drive the blade down into his throat and finish him, he grabbed the blade with one hand and forced it over his shoulder, dragging Valkari closer. He then drew back his free hand and slammed the heel of his palm into her face.

Stars erupted in her vision and Valkari hit the ground, the world spinning around her. She tried to orientate herself, but her vision was swimming. She tried to tighten her grip on the sword that was much too heavy for her, but felt him wrench it from her grasp as he pinned her down by the shoulder.

“Next time, don’t waste time taunting your opponent,” he panted from somewhere above her. Then the pommel struck her hard in the side of the head and the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I was just really excited about this chapter? ;D


	7. Proof

When Valkari came to, she became aware of the chill of evening air and the moaning of the wind. Then came the scent of the earth and burning wood, the crackling of a campfire, and the feel of heavy furs draped over her, and finally the throbbing of her head. As she slowly sat up, the furs fell down and her eyes slid open. Her vision swam in front of her for a few moments before everything slowly came into focus.

At some point night had fallen, and she had been left lying in a small tent, wrapped in furs, and with a satchel that wasn’t hers tucked under her arm. Next to her was her bow and quiver of arrows, and the Nightingale blade tucked in its sheath. Her eyes widened at that and she tried to regain herself faster.

That was right. She had fought Teldryn down in Glowstone Cave… and she’d made the mistake of taunting him rather than just finishing the job. Once upon a time she would have mocked such a thing, anyone who stood around talking rather than killing their opponent deserved what they got. Well she deserved what she got then. A rightful bout of humiliation and a headache to match. But she was alive, which was more than she expected, considering that Teldryn had seemed dead set on killing her. She had to wonder why he had changed his mind about that. She wouldn’t have in if she was in his position.

Automatically she opened the satchel. Inside was some dried food, a water skin, a healing potion, and, of course, a note. She was coming across a lot of those lately.

She ignored the food and water and instead reached for the letter, unfolding it. It was written in a neatish script, but hurriedly as well.

_ I know you’re not one of them. Do yourself a favour and just get out of Raven Rock. I have no quarrel with you and it’s better for both of us if you just stay out of it. _

_ -T _

“If you didn’t want me involved, you should’ve just killed me,” she snorted, shoving it into her pocket and getting up. Her throat was parched but she didn’t take the water skin he’d left. Maybe it was paranoid to think it could be poisoned, but that was just how she’d learned back with the guild. Never take anything freely given, either it had strings attached or it would kill you.

But now she had one task. To find her way back to Raven Rock. She had a few words for Ramodo.

As it so happened, the town wasn’t far. A little wandering, and she found herself atop the cliffs overlooking the town. So far everything seemed quiet. There was a thick column of black smoke chugging out from the far side of the Bulwark. They were dealing with the bodies of the mercenaries then. 

Valkari carefully made her way down the cliff face, quick and silent, before heading for the abandoned house where she’d last met with Ramodo. She didn’t want him getting any sort of headstart if she could help it, so she kept the shadowcloak drawn around her, rendering her invisible to any passersby. Only once she was inside the house did she reveal herself, and made her way upstairs.

Ramodo was in his usual spot and looked up when Valkari appeared at the top of the stairs. If he was surprised to see her, it didn’t show.

“You’re back. So did you find any-?”

He was cut off by a punch to the gut followed up by a punch to the face.

“You didn’t mention your friends were going to be attacking town, did you, you bastard?!” she snarled.

“What the fu-!”

She hit him again, smashing her fist across his jaw.

“I want answers. Now,” she growled, grabbing him by the collar. “And you’ll give them to me, unless you’d rather I take a knife to your balls!”

“Hey back off!”

She drew her dagger and pressed it between his legs, perfectly serious, and the colour drained from his face as he realised this.

“Hey look, I didn’t know about the attack okay?” he insisted. “I was just sent to find out who was hiding the guy and where to find him. If I’d known, I’d have given you a heads up at least.”

She glowered at him, but he wasn’t really in a position to lie at the moment. And she could easily kill him with one word if he tried anything.

“Fine.” She lowered the dagger and released him, pushing him back against the wall. “Who’s Sigrun?”

“She’s the boss. And as long as she keeps me at her side, she can count on my blade to protect her. Let’s leave it at that,” Ramodo grunted, straightening his leathers as he eyed Valkari warily.

“You don’t sound happy about that,” she pointed out. “She blackmailing you?”

He gave a non-commital grunt, but clearly wasn’t going to say more. No point pushing that line of questioning then.

“What about Teldryn? You met him before?”

“Yeah,” he said, grimacing. “Unpredictable, unknowable, and dangerous. You better watch your ass around him... though it looks like you already had it handed to you.”

He gestured at her face and Valkari frowned. She must have had bruises. Shit.

“I’m still alive. More than I can say for your men,” she retorted.

Ramodo shrugged. “Can’t argue with that. Anyway, here.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a sizable bag of gold. “For your trouble.”

“Hoping I won’t kill you if you pay me?” she snorted.

“Is it working?”

She didn’t answer. Instead she just asked: “you know anything about Sadri’s Sujamma?”

He frowned. “Why’d you wanna know about that?”

“Just tell me before I change my mind about killing you,” she said bluntly.

“The guy who runs the Corner Club, Geldis Sadri. He makes it. Homebrewed, apparently. Never cared much for dunmer drinks myself so I couldn’t tell you whether it’s any good.”

She ignored his curious look and simply gave him a curt nod before leaving.

The Retching Netch was in the town’s market square, with only the sign to differentiate it from the other Redoran-styled buildings. It depicted a large netch that was indeed retching into a bucket. Surely not something that actually happened, she though as she pushed the door open and headed inside.

The barroom was down a flight of stairs, and tonight the bar itself was fairly sparse. Valkari had to wonder how long she’d been out cold after Teldryn knocked her out. Geldis was standing behind the bar, wiping down the surface. He looked up as she came to the bottom of the stairs - he was an older mer, heavily lined face with dark hair that was flecked with grey, and a full beard.

“By the gods! You look like you could use a drink,” he exclaimed as Valkari approached. No doubt he was remarking on the bruises on her face, but she had no time for it.

“We need to talk. Now,” she said darkly.

He looked slightly stunned, then frowned slightly.

“Okay,” he said slowly, tucking away his rag and stepping out from behind the counter. He led the way across the (mostly) empty barroom, though the few people present had drunk themselves into a stupor and paid no attention to anything around them. They didn’t even seem to realise Geldis had left the bar.

He unlocked one of the room doors - Valkari kept a hand over her dagger - and stepped inside. It was one of the vacant rooms he rented out by the looks of it, with one bed, a fireplace, and a wardrobe. Valkari shut the door behind them and Geldis turned around, frowning at her.

“I’m busy,” he said, a little irritably. “Is this important?”

“Where’s Teldryn Sero?” she demanded.

“He’s in the inn. Look around, I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“That’s the wrong answer.” Her grip on the dagger’s handle tightened and she narrowed her eyes. “Tell me where he is. Now.”

“I tend to keep my patrons’ privacy,” he insisted, folding his arms over his chest.

“Most innkeepers I know don’t extend that policy to wanted men,” Valkari said coolly. “Or are you going to try and convince me that you don’t know about the 25,000 gold bounty on his head?”

That tweaked a nerve. Geldis’ eyes went wide and he spluttered for a moment.

“How dare you make such an accusation!” he spat. “I would never-”

“Care to explain why I found your drinks in Glowstone Hall? You know, where he made his camp,” Valkari interrupted. “If he’s your patron, and he’s not a criminal in hiding, then why would he be hiding down there, I wonder?”

Geldis froze, eyes bulging slightly as though he was trying to find some excuse, some way out, before he finally gave in.

“That s’wit. He’s going to get himself killed in there,” he cursed, shaking his head and turning away.

“You must have a reason for going through all the trouble of hiding him,” she said. “Most people wouldn’t stick their neck out for someone like this unless they thought it was worth it.”

“I do,” Geldis sighed. “He’s a good elf, I trust him. Even if he is a stupid s’wit who needs a smack round the head every now and then.”

“So you believe he’s innocent?”

“Yes.” He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, Teldryn’s an idiot, I’ll be the first to tell you that. But he’s no criminal. I’ve known him too long to believe that he’d do anything that would warrant someone sending this many mercs after him.”

“Okay, let’s say I believe you. What do you know about Sigrun and the Sea Tiger?”

“More than most, though not as much as I would like. The Sea Tiger most recently came into port in Abah’s Landing, in Hammerfell. From what I know, Sigrun and her crew would fence off their ill-gotten gains to the Thieves Guild, treasures plundered from tombs, galleons, rival crews…” He began to pace. “When I heard that it was the same Sigrun hunting Teldryn, I began to dig a little deeper. I managed to trace her back to Eastmarch, just northeast of Windhelm, but the trail ran cold.”

Valkari cocked an eyebrow. Windhelm. Back in Skyrim. If that wasn’t just a bit damn inconvenient, but she did have a way of getting back to the mainland that was faster than by boat. And she’d not had any word of Neloth’s return to Tel Mithryn yet.

“Give me the location and I’ll take a look,” she said. “Maybe I’ll find something.”

Somehow Geldis didn’t look completely surprised and only nodded, marking the location down on her map. It was further up the road from the Hlaalu and Hollyfrost farms just outside of Windhelm. Luckily she’d have more luck than Geldis had and would find something.

Then something struck her as odd.

“The mercs were scared of you,” she said, just as they were about to leave the room. “One of them said that if I came in here, I wouldn’t be walking back out.”

He paused, hesitating. Then he heaved a sigh.

“Considering that we’re in this for the long haul, there’s no point hiding it. I… was a member of the Morag Tong, you see. So they leave me alone,” he explained.

“You’re kidding me. You’re part of the Tong?”

He wouldn’t be the first she’d met. One of the members who had joined not long after Mercer’s demise, a dunmer by the name of Ravyn Imyan, had been one such assassin prior to the Tong’s dissolution after the Red Year.

Geldis shook his head.

“I  _ was _ , before-”

“Before the Tong fell apart, I know,” she said. “One of your lot joined the Thieves Guild about twenty years ago.”

“Is that so?” He looked a little surprised, but then shrugged. “Then I’m sure you’ll know to keep this to yourself. People have a tendency not to trust a barman who might slip a poison into their drink, and I need paying customers.”

[]

The trip back from Solstheim was a much shorter one on dragon-back. Valkari hoped that Odahviing had realised that the day he swore to come when she called, it would mostly be for getting from place to place. If he had a problem with that, he’d yet to complain openly.

They touched down on the road just a little ways south of the place marked on her map, the flapping of Odahviing’s wings kicking up clouds of snow. It was definitely a massive improvement over the ash that perpetually covered southern Solstheim, and it was only now Valkari could appreciate how much she’d missed fresh, ash-free air and winter sunlight gleaming in the clear blue sky overhead.

“I will wait here for your return, Dovahkiin,” Odahviing grumbled, settling down and making himself comfortable on the road, wings tucked up to his sides.

“I’ll try not to be too long,” she assured, setting off.

It didn’t take long to find the place Geldis had meant. It was a large, burned down farm house that looked as though it had been abandoned for some years. Valkari frowned slightly just looking at it. Had Sigrun lived here at some point?

She stepped inside, perhaps the first person to do so in some time, the snow crunching under her feet. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it at first until she found the half-buried trapdoor in the corner of the main room. She tugged on the handle. Locked.

She went to pull out her lockpicks when a little voice behind her said, “hi there!”

Valkari turned and nearly jumped out of her skin. Standing just behind her was the pearly white ghost of a little girl, smiling up at her brightly.

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“...Valkari,” she said slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. After everything she’d faced, one would think she could handle seeing a ghost of all things.

“Did you see a dragon?” she asked suddenly.

“A dragon?” Valkari said, raising an eyebrow, feeling more confused by the minute.

“Yes. A good dragon! Father wouldn’t let me go see him, but he wouldn’t tell me why.”

“Because dragons are dangerous.”

“Tell them he didn’t do it!” the ghost girl cried, her eyes going wide.

Now she was just plain lost.

“Didn’t do what?”

The ghost girl shrugged.

“I don’t know. Someone in town said it. They were saying he did something bad, but I know he didn’t!”

Valkari knelt down to her level.

“I need to understand what happened here. Tell me more.”

“Nah, I don’t want to.”

The simple refusal of a child who didn’t want to cooperate unless they got something in return. Valkari sighed, rubbing her forehead. And just when she thought she’d gotten past this with Runa and Aventus. Sofie was definitely the more cooperative child.

“I will tell them about the good dragon if you help me understand what happened here,” she said slowly.

“Really? You would do that?” the ghost girl cried in delight, beaming. “I have to remember to tell Papa!” She glided over to the old, blackened fireplace and pointed into the pit. “The key in there opens the door to the cellar. I think there’s stuff in there that might help.”

Valkari knelt in front of the fireplace and rooted through the ashes - had she mentioned how much she hated ash? - and pulled out a heavy iron key, slightly rusted with age, but otherwise still usable.

When she straightened up, the ghost girl had disappeared. But Valkari had to wonder. If this bounty had been on Teldryn’s head since before the Dragon Crisis, then how was it that the girl had seen a dragon? Paarthurnax never left the Throat of the World after all, and all the other dragons had been long since dead. Strange.

She decided to put the thought to one side for now, at least until she had a better idea of what was going on, and unlocked the trapdoor.

Inside was pitch black and smelled very badly. When she lit her lantern, she could see why. The place was smeared with dried blood that had clearly been there for a very long time. It soaked the bed at the back of the room, it covered the floor, it was even splattered across the walls and the ceiling. Valkari decided it was a minor blessing that it was all old. It meant she was unlikely to have her own blood joining it.

On her left there was a wooden table with a map of Skyrim spread out over it. Two daggers had been jammed into its surface, serving as markers of some kind. There were shelves lined with potions and books and bottles of mead, and racks filled with weapons. It almost looked like some sort of hideout. 

‘A very badly maintained one,’ she thought to herself.

She headed towards the back of the room, where a note had been left. On the front was written ‘Tael Drin’. The parchment was very old and yellowed with age, and felt far too thin in her fingertips as she unfolded it.

_ My trusted fellow dumber _

_ I write so you understand. Here is the perfect fighting tactic. I chop the cunts in close combat and the archer covers my back. _

_ We must depart very soon so I got you a bow to practice with. I know you are still heavily injured but if you were Skyrim’s only hunter all of her people would starve _

_ -Voden Free-Winter _

Then written below that in another hand, was:

_ My dearest nord FIEND, _

_ You WILL respect my combat style, or I won’t be responsible for what happens next _

_ -Teldryn Sero _

She raised an eyebrow. Voden Free-Winter. Now that was a name she hadn’t heard in a long time. She didn’t know much about the man, only that he was Brunwulf Free-Winter’s brother, and that he’d died charging into a bandit encampment alone years ago after his wife and child were murdered. About as stubborn and hard headed as most nords, in other words. And it seemed that Teldryn had been in his employ at one point.

“Teldryn worked for Voden… Sigrun’s trail led here…” she muttered to herself, pacing back and forth. “...Guess you weren’t very dead after all, Sigrun.”

It made about as much sense as anything. What she still couldn’t figure out is why Sigrun wanted Teldryn dead. He had been charged with murder, but there was no question that it was bandits who had killed Voden. She was still missing something.

Another search of the room and she soon found an official looking document, stamped with the seal of the Stormcloak family. A snarling bear. An emblem that was officially dead in Skyrim… unless, of course, you counted the numerous rebel banners hidden away in secret by whatever supporters Ulfric had left who clung to the hope that their cause would be reborn anew. She unfurled the document.

_ By decree of Jarl Hoag, the Great Bear of Eastmarch _

_ Having been declared innocent of all crimes, Teldryn Sero is released. The sentence of death is hereby lifted, and the bounty has been paid in full by Voden Free-Winter, to whom Teldryn Sero is now in service to. _

_ Teldryn Sero is now bound to his nord master. Brunwulf Free Winter is now directly responsible for every crime committed within Eastmarch Hold. _

_ 19th Sun’s Height, 4E 181 _

[]

Valkari could practically hear Brunwulf groan when she marched into the hall and saw him pinching his brow. Nothing good ever came of her coming to see him after all, and he was usually busy with trying to maintain order and undoing the damage Ulfric’s racism had done. Which would always come second to the Dragonborn’s demands, naturally. At her request, the room was cleared, even of the steward and servants leaving Valkari and Brunwulf alone.

“Dragonborn, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he sighed. 

“I need to talk to you about the Free-Winter farm.”

Not what he expected. And by the way he bristled, not a topic to be touched upon lightly.

“How about you mind your own business about it?” he suggested brusquely. “Besides, I heard you were busy threatening ship captains to take you to Solstheim so you could hunt down assassins.”

So he’d heard about that, which meant half of Skyrim was surely talking about it. Valkari could hardly breathe without people gossiping over it, and it was really very annoying.

“I’m investigating Teldryn Sero,” she said coolly. “Not related to that other thing, but even so.”

“What makes you think I know anything?” Brunwulf snapped. “Everyone knows he’s dead and gone.”

“Right, so it was a different Teldryn Sero - whose crimes you aren’t responsible for - that I fought on Solstheim?” She left out the part about him beating her. No sense in giving anyone the idea it could be done. 

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his head.

“Fine. Let’s hear the rest of it.”

“Pirates from the Sea Tiger are posing as mercenaries. They’re attacking Raven Rock, trying to root him out.”

“I see. And?”

“And your brother’s wife, Sigrun? She wants Teldryn alive.”

Brunwulf actually sunk into his seat this time, palms pressed against his face in what was unmistakably exasperation.

“Not this again,” he groaned. “Just kill them both and be done with it.”

“Not really the solution I’m going for,” she replied flatly. “What can you tell me about her?”

He sighed, sitting up again, looking ready for the conversation to be over with.

“She still mourns greatly for her husband after he was murdered. That was over twenty years ago though.”

“And do you think Teldryn had anything to do with his death?”

“Pfft, him?” Brunwulf snorted, shaking his head. “You’d better help him out wherever you can. He’ll need it.”

At that, Valkari raised an eyebrow.

“But doesn’t he have a bounty on his head?” she asked. “I found a wanted notice with his name on it, and it was clearly put out after Hoag released Teldryn.”

Brunwulf rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

“Those? No. She just posts those wherever she goes, looking for revenge,” Brunwulf explained. “Ulfric never put out a bounty on Sero, never had reason to. As far as I know, it’s fake. Just rounding up enough idiots to help her flush him out.”

Well that explained a lot, like why she hadn’t actually seen the supposedly decade old poster before now. And it said a lot about the kind of person she was dealing with. Ruthless, relentless, and willing to go to any lengths to win. Kind of like herself, actually.

“Well he made it very clear he didn’t need my help,” Valkari said curtly, folding her arms.

Brunwulf tsked and shook his head. “I know what you mean. Arrogant elven bastard,” he muttered. “But he’s no traitor. Even saved my life once.”

“Meaning?”

“It was a long time ago. After the Great War had ended. My brother and I returned only to find our home overrun with bandit filth,” he explained. “These filth bags swooped in and seized the place. I warned Voden not to go in there. We were outnumbered, five to one at least.”

“Doesn’t sound like you had good odds. I take it he went anyway?”

“He was going to. But then, out of nowhere, a dark elf attacked. It was an accident, as far as I could tell, but he burned the farm down. Not sure what he expected, throwing around fire like that,” Brunwulf grunted.

“Did he also kill a young girl?” she asked.

Brunwulf shook his head. “No, he didn’t. She was stabbed, then cut apart.”

“Why would Teldryn leap in to try and help like that?” Valkari asked, still feeling like there were pieces missing. “I didn’t think the nords in Windhelm inspired much love in the dunmer, especially back then.”

“I don’t know,” Brunwulf confessed. “But there is someone in the Grey Quarter you can talk to. Lluvan Sadri. He knew Teldryn better than most folk around here.”

Not a name she knew, but then she couldn’t claim to have met every elf living in the Grey Quarter. She’d have to ask at the Corner Club if she decided to speak to him.

“I still need some way to prove Teldryn’s innocence to Sigrun,” she said. Provided Sigrun even cared at this point. Hate someone long enough and the reason stopped being important. Still it was better than nothing.

Brunwulf scratched his chin thoughtfully. 

“I think I might have something you can make use of,” he said. “Aethis!”

A young dunmer woman scurried in from the direction of the kitchens, looking a little nervous as she wrung her hands together.

“Yes, my Jarl?” she asked, eyes flickering between him and Valkari.

“Please go to my quarters and retrieve the small chest from beneath my bed. It will be on the left side and will bear my family’s sigil,” he ordered, his voice gentle and kind.

The mer bowed deeply and hurried off again.

“I bet there’s some nords not happy about dunmer being employed in the palace,” Valkari remarked dryly.

“Of course not,” Brunwulf snorted. “‘Filthy greyskins are taking our jobs!’ They would be if they’d been their jobs in the first place. Idiots.”

The young mer returned a few minutes later carrying the chest Brunwulf had requested. He took it, thanking her and dismissed her. When she was gone, he unlocked the chest and pulled out a letter.

‘How much reading am I going to be doing?’ Valkari thought to herself. She’d found enough notes to make a large bonfire at this point.

“Here. This might help you find what you’re looking for,” he said, handing it over. “But be careful. Sigrun is a dangerous woman. Nearly as dangerous as yourself, in fact.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Valkari waited until she was back outside to read the letter.

_ Brunwulf, _

_ I’m deeply sorry. Voden is dead. _

_ We tracked down the bandits he was looking for, and there was nothing I could do to stop him, although they got what they deserved. I set fire to the encampment and managed to recover the body. Look for the small circle of stones under the waterfall at Robber’s Gorge, and please give him a proper burial. If anyone asks, I died there too. Farewell serjo, I’d better leave Skyrim before someone accuses me again. _

_ -T _

[]

Odahviing once again refused to openly grumble as they headed east over Skyrim. Robber’s Gorge was a place she was at least vaguely familiar with in passing at least, a large bandit encampment that bordered on the River Hjaal.

Fortunately she didn’t have to get too close to the encampment to find the place mentioned in Teldryn’s letter to Brunwulf. Standing before a waterfall was a tall standing stone, and before that there was a mound surrounded by a circle of stones. Just like in the letter. Grass and wildflowers had since grown over it, so it would be impossible to know it was anything of significance unless you were specifically looking for it.

Valkari knelt down and began to search the grave.

“I swear, if I have to read one more letter to find out what’s going on, I am going to- NOCTURNAL DAMN YOU TELDRYN SERO!”

Buried just at the base of the mound there was, indeed, a letter. Very dirty and delicate with age, but by some sheer miracle, still readable. She opened it, perhaps a little more roughly than was necessary, and began to read.

_ To my beloved wife Sigrun, _

_ Wherever you may be, I pray to Talos every night to find you and avenge our child. I have wandered for two years to find those filthy bastards, and I will have my bloody revenge. This is the time of our reunion, in victory or in death. _

_ May the gods have mercy on them, because I shall have none _ .

Trying to ignore her increasing hatred for written notes, Valkari tucked the letter into her pocket. Between that and Teldryn’s letter, it was evident that the bandits were responsible for Voden’s death, not Teldryn. Whether that would mean anything to Sigrun remained to be seen. But it was something.

And the fact that Teldryn had gone through the trouble of recovering Voden and burying him said an awful lot about the mer. His sparing her life certainly made more sense.

She called Odahviing. It was time to report her findings to Geldis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh not 100% happy with this chapter, but the sooner I get it out of the way, the sooner I get to the good stuff ;)


	8. Recollection

The Retching Netch was bustling by the time Valkari returned to Raven Rock. The East Empire Company had finally moved back in to open the mines whilst she was gone, and most folks were drinking to a hard, profitable day’s work. The first of many, they all hoped. Geldis held his composure perfectly when he spotted her, not even looking the slightest bit surprised or curious as she approached the bar.

“No sign of the ship,” she muttered, though it was hardly necessary. The buzzing chatter of happy patrons was enough to drown out their conversation, and she doubted anyone cared what they might be discussing.

“Just when you think things couldn’t get any worse,” he sighed, shaking his head. “More of the pirates attacked while you were gone. The Redoran Guard managed to push them back, but it was rough. The temple was so overrun with wounded that Elder Othreloth was willing to set aside his differences with Aphia long enough to ask for her help tending to everyone.”

“Well here’s hoping that what I learned in Skyrim might help.” His brow furrowed, and Valkari pulled out the letters she’d found. “Proof of Teldryn’s innocence. Sigrun believes that Teldryn murdered her husband Voden, when really Voden got himself killed.”

“Typical nord, beard for brains,” Geldis sighed, shaking his head. At Valkari’s arched brow, he added, “no offense. But I’m not seeing how this helps.”

“The bounty on Teldryn’s head is fake. Sigrun wants revenge for Voden’s murder and uses the fake bounty to lure in pirates and mercenaries to help her hunt him down. If we show her the truth, maybe she’ll drop it.”

Geldis didn’t look convinced, and she didn’t feel all that convinced herself. But it was hard to see what else they could do, short of killing them all. And that wasn’t really an option considering how many pirates Sigrun seemed to have under her command. She seemed to have what was practically a small army.

“In the meantime, maybe we should check on Teldryn,” she said. “Unless the idiot’s gotten himself killed whilst I was gone?”

“Not yet, though that surprises me more than anything you’ve told me. Here, take this. I managed to get it off of one of those pirate s’wits.”

He slipped a note over the bar because of course he did, and Valkari pocketed, trying not to look too sour. She thanked Geldis and made her way back outside. She unfolded the note and it said:

_ Glowstone Hall can be accessed through a strategic shortcut just above the Bulwark. We placed a big flag between Raven Rock and Kolbjorn Barrow, in case the ash storms bury the trapdoor. Our goal is to infiltrate the town from Glowstone Hall, since it is directly connected to Raven Rock’s temple. _

_ -Sigrun _

“These people learn nothing,” Valkari snorted. “YOL.”

A lick of flame passed her lips and devoured the parchment as she set off in the direction the note had mentioned. Sure enough she saw the flag, or rather a pole with a strip of ruined fabric nailed to it, fluttering gently in the wind. The edge of the trapdoor was just visible, poking out from under the blanket of ash. Brushing it aside, she pulled the door open. 

When she dropped down, she found herself in a very familiar place. The ground sloped down to meet the edge of a ruined nordic bridge, spanning over a small running stream. 

She did her best to recall the path that Sigrun’s infiltrator had shown her to reach the entrance to Glowstone Hall, holding her lantern just ahead of her, a small orange glow bobbing along in the darkness. Soon enough she arrived at the door and pushed it open, stepping into the dank dark hall. 

Watching for traps, she headed down towards Teldryn’s camp in the ruins. She didn’t see any runes glowing in the ash, no trip wires or bear traps. He couldn’t really think he was safe down there, not after Valkari had found him the last time, and it was becoming plainly obvious that the pirates knew he was somewhere inside. He must have known the danger.

Before stepping into the circular room, she Shouted: “Laas Yah Nir.”

The sound came out as barely more than a whisper, the aura creeping through the doorway and across the room and returning nothing. It was empty. Teldryn wasn’t there, visible or otherwise. But he had been back recently. There was the familiar odor of blood and various healing remedies that brought back memories of stifling fever, vivid dreams, and the stabbing pains of her insides knitting themselves back together. 

On the table was a set of now-ruined bonemold armour. Someone - likely one of the pirates - had managed to hack into the chestplate with an axe maybe and cleaved their way down to the midriff. Blood and torn flesh were caked to the fringes of the tear, crusty and blackened. Teldryn had obviously come off the worse in the last attack and had chosen to crawl his way back to the camp rather than leave himself vulnerable in the temple.

Still he couldn’t have been so badly wounded if he’d managed to patch himself up. Or maybe Geldis had helped him, though if he hadn’t mentioned it then Teldryn was probably fine, and he definitely wasn’t here. 

There was still another ruined building nearby, so that was where she headed next.

The first room was empty, barring an empty throne and a few burnt crates. The dust had been disturbed recently, going by the footprints still visible in the fine grey layer, leading through a doorway which was covered over by a tattered banner. Valkari pushed aside the banner and found herself face to face once again with Teldryn Sero.

His brow arched in surprise for a moment, then quickly settled into a frown as he leant against the back wall, arms folded over his chest.

“And now  _ you’re _ back. Great, just great,” he grumbled, glaring at her.

“I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful arse,” Valkari snapped. “What’s your problem?”

“The destruction of a homeland, the exile of our people, and the rebuilding of our civilisation,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Are you always this much of a dick, or you making a special effort just for me?” she scoffed.

Teldryn’s eyes narrowed and he pushed off from against the wall, stepping right into her personal space and glaring down at her.

“Run for the horizon before I hunt you down,” he hissed, his face twisted into a snarl. Valkari held her ground, meeting his glare with her arms folded.

“Oh, so  _ I’m _ crazy for threatening the person trying to help me? At least I had the excuse of bleeding out. What’s your excuse?”

That seemed to have an effect, albeit an unexpected one. The snarl lingered for a moment, then his expression softened and he hung his head slightly. He stepped back again.

“Sorry. I suppose I’m just more used to hork-faced cowards coming by looking to mock my efforts.” 

To Valkari’s surprise, he did look genuinely remorseful when he looked back up at her, if not utterly exhausted. The bags under his eyes were prominent and he looked somewhat gaunt, unhealthy. Stress combined with a lack of sleep, it shouldn’t be surprising. She let her own expression soften slightly, downgrading from an outright glare to something a bit more neutral.

“Look, for some reason I got it in my head to try to help you,” she said. “And I think you owe me an explanation. Y’know, since you  _ did  _ hit me over the head with a sword.”

“Only after you somehow managed to throw me into a wall with your  _ voice _ ,” he pointed out dryly. “But… alright. I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell you.”

He shifted to sit on a nearby crate, gaze fixed on the floor, forearms resting just above his knees.

“My last patron was a true nord,” he began. “One of the toughest employers I ever had. He was dressed in animal skins, had tattoos on his face… a real traditionalist type, if you know what I mean.” He gave a short, humourless laugh, running a hand over his hair. “Right towards the end, we were hunting these bandits and had just finished clearing out an old ruined fort that some of the bandits had taken over just outside of Whiterun. When we got outside, we realised we missed one as we saw him galloping away on horseback. My boss wasn’t about to let him get away, so we pursued. On foot. For three days.”

“Aw, poor Sero,” she said jokingly. “Could your patron not just have broken a couple of giants for you to ride, or was he not a  _ true  _ nord?”

Teldryn gave her a look that said he wasn’t entirely certain if she was joking or not, and it was only then did it occur to her that it was perhaps a joke only she and her children shared. Then he shook his head and decided to carry on rather than comment on her sense of humour.

“Anyway, we tracked him to the largest bandit encampment I’d ever seen. My patron took one look at me, and made the most menacing grin I’d ever seen. That was the moment I knew I would never see him again. No amount of money would be worth that kind of death.”

“You didn’t even try to stop him.”

“I told him not to, but did he listen?” Teldryn snapped. “Oh, no! He had an insatiable bloodlust and was extremely stubborn. He  _ had _ to fight back.”

“And so you were framed for your patron’s murder.”

“Yes.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Though Azura knows why…”

“Probably because you burned the Free-Winter farm to the ground,” Valkari said bluntly.

Teldryn’s face twitched and his head snapped around to stare at her like she’d slapped him.

“Who told you that?” he asked, voice low.

“I spoke with Brunwulf Free-Winter and took a look around the farm. I learned quite a few things whilst I was away, actually.”

“Geldis put you up to this?!” he snapped, leaping to his feet and suddenly looking furious. “Damnit, I told him not to waste anymore of my time!”

Then his ears twitched and he frowned, listening carefully. Valkari frowned. She couldn’t hear anything besides the gentle moaning of the wind.

“What-”

“Shh,” he hissed, reaching for his sword. “Someone’s out there…”

Valkari took her bow, and suddenly there was a loud bang that shook the dust from the ceiling, and a yelp. Teldryn all but barged past and she followed behind, arrow nocked. Crouched in the dust, armour a little charred but otherwise unhurt, was Geldis. His hood had fallen back to reveal his face, and Valkari noted how odd it was to see him in armour.

“Crazy n’wah,” he barked as he rose to his feet, scowling at Teldryn. “You trying to get someone killed?”

Teldryn’s glare darkened as he sheathed his sword.

“Boethiah devour you, get out of here!” he demanded.

“Don’t know what that was, but don’t try it again,” Geldis growled before glancing over at Valkari before looking back at Teldryn. “You should be grateful that the only two people who care enough to help you didn’t get blown to smithereens you s’wit!”

“They just kept coming,” Teldryn argued. “What am I supposed to do, sit here in the open with a sign saying ‘25,000 septims here, get ‘em while they’re hot’?”

“Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have waited.” Geldis pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before looking back up at Teldryn, scowling. “What’s the matter with you?”

“With me?” Teldryn scoffed. “What’s the matter with  _ you _ ?”

“Daedra take you! This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“This is the last time I’ll say it! Get out!”

Valkari meanwhile paid little attention to the conversation, instead staring out over the hall. Something felt off. Wrong. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

“Laas Yah Nir!” she Shouted, the whisper spreading out over the room in a wave. 

And this time she saw them. Dancing lights lurking in the shadows nearby, glowing in her vision, showing vivid signs of life as they fluttered in the darkness. She held her bow ready, her eyes narrowed.

“Come out here where I can see you,” she barked, breaking off Teldryn and Geldis’ argument. They both turned to stare at her in confusion, then peered into the darkness.

“I don’t see anyone,” said Geldis.

“Well I can,” she said bluntly before turning back to the hall and calling, “you can stay there behind that rubble if you like. It’ll certainly make killing you easier.”

Slowly the fluttering forms of life began to move slowly into view just as the lights themselves faded and she got a clearer view of the pirates as they stepped into the firelight.

There were a good number of them. More than she would have liked. There were a couple of nords wielding mauls, a khajiit with dual blades, the argonian infiltrator, and of course, leading the group was Ramodo. He was glaring at Valkari.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret,” he said, the scimitar in his hand flashing in the flickering light.

“Sorry, me and regret aren’t well acquainted,” she replied smoothly. “But if you don’t drop this and walk away, you’ll be getting to know her very well, very soon.”

“Shut up and get out of my face!” he snarled.

“You’re threatening me? That’s rich,” Valkari laughed. “Should I tell everyone here about the colour your face went when I threatened to cut your balls off.”

She could have sworn that was an impressed look Teldryn threw her way. Or he was looking at her like she was crazy. Either was likely. 

The Infiltrator laughed, looking right at Geldis.

“There you are, you crazy drunken bastard,” he jeered. “I knew it was you all along.”

With a flick of his wrist, Geldis had a dagger in his hand.

“Sorry my scaly friend. You’ve come to the wrong place.”

Teldryn balked and glared at Geldis, barking, “Sheogorath take fools like you! Put that down!”

Geldis just treated him to a very cool glare. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll just wait for someone else with a little more courage to come along,” he retorted icily.

That touched a nerve. Teldryn snarled and his free hand burst into flames. He yelled, throwing a fistful of them right at Ramodo. His anger, however, clearly got the better of him as rather than causing the redguard to burst into flames, Ramodo’s armour merely caught fire. It was, apparently, more than enough though to send him into a panic.

“Ah, it burns! I’m on fire!” Ramodo shrieked, trying to pat down the angry flames, eyes wide with terror. He then suddenly turned and fled, running into the depths of the hall like a dancing candle whilst the Infiltrator cackled at the display, turning to watch Ramodo disappear into the darkness.

Valkari cocked an eyebrow.

“And here you act like you’re an expert in setting people on fire,” she said dryly.

Teldryn glared at her. “Think you can do better?”

“Oh, I know I can.”

Valkari stepped forwards, smirking, and it took the pirates a moment to register that she’d put her weapon away. The Infiltrator’s laugh slowed into a nervous chuckle and then silence, the rest of the group throwing nervous looks at one another.

“Are you nuts?!” Geldis hissed. “Get back here!”

“I’ve got this,” she said coolly.

The pirates were fidgeting, as though trying to figure out if she really was serious or if she was bluffing somehow, glancing at each other as though hoping one of them had figured it out. All the while Valkari stood there, smirking with an arched brow.

“Come on, we can take her!” one of them finally barked.

Valkari’s smirk widened.

“Bad decision,” she said before she opened her mouth and Shouted, “YOL TOOR SHUL!”

In the split second they were still visible, she could see their eyes widening in fright just as the wave of dragon fire rolled over them, devouring them alive. They screamed and shrieked as they boiled alive inside their armour, the flames licking at their skin hungrily and leaving blackened, scorched flesh behind. When the flames finally died away, all that was left were the burnt out husks.

Satisfied, Valkari turned back to Teldryn and Geldis who were both staring in a silent, horrified awe.

“Told you,” she said simply, smirking at Teldryn whose jaw had gone slack. He seemed lost for words, which was good enough in her book.

Then after a few long seconds passed he finally mustered the ability speak, and dared to breathe, “what…  _ are _ you?”

Valkari shrugged. 

“A thief and single mother of three. Other than that? Nothing special.”

[]

The Redoran Guard were on high alert when Valkari got back, some on guard and others dealing with bodies of the fallen from both sides. The group from Glowstone Hall hadn't been alone then. Valkari didn’t even want to wonder how many mercs had signed onto Sigrun’s cause if she was still willing to throw this many lives away so casually.

Veleth was near the docks, looking sleepless and strained, arms folded tightly over his chest, his entire body rigid.

“It’s not looking good, is it?” he sighed as Valkari approached, not even looking around. “We still don’t even know who they’re looking for.”

“They’re after Teldryn Sero."

His head snapped around and he looked at her incredulously.

“Excuse me? Sero-”

“Served in the Redoran Guard to try and avoid being framed for the death of his patron, Voden Free-Winter,” Valkari explained. “The leader of the pirates, Sigrun Free-Winter, thinks Teldryn murdered him and created a fake bounty to get revenge.”

This looked like it was a bit much for the Captain, who already looked wrung out before hearing this, as he sunk down to sit on a nearby crate, holding his head in his hands for a moment.

“Well then I guess there’s no need to worry,” he said finally. “Sero was badly wounded during the assault, and no one’s seen him since. There’s no way he’s still alive.”

“Actually-” Veleth groaned “-he’s alive down in Glowstone Hall. He’s the one who’s been killing them this whole time. They have a way into the hall outside the Bulwark. I doubt he’ll be able to hold out for much longer, he needs reinforcements.”

“I’m sorry, but we have barely enough men to keep the town safe as it is,” Veleth said flatly. “I can’t pull them off watch.”

Unsurprising, but frustrating nonetheless.

“Fine. Just make sure they’re ready when they come back. Because they  _ will _ come back,” she warned before heading off towards the Retching Netch. 

Geldis had left Glowstone Hall before she had, trying to dig up some more intel whilst Valkari helped Teldryn renew his traps before more of the pirates arrived. It helped that he now had a few lookouts in the form of the shadowy Nightingale Sentinels which would hopefully give him an edge. He was smart enough not to ask, though she’d be surprised if he didn’t have some inkling of their daedric nature.

The Retching Netch was more subdued than when Valkari had last visited, most people huddled around their tables, muttering worriedly between themselves.

But Geldis was noticeably absent, and instead a young dunmer woman Valkari had come to know as Dreyla Alor was stood behind the bar, looking a little uncertain and shaken. 

“Get you a drink?” she asked, voice stumbling slightly.

“You’re in charge now?” Valkari asked, leaning against the bar.

“I… think so,” Dreyla said slowly. “It might take more than a simple request to change Geldis’ mind. He had to fight back.”

“He’s gone?”

“Yes. Went chasing after that woman who showed up. Sigrun, I think he called her.” She gave Valkari a very wary look. “Headstrong, that one. If you’re looking for her, you’ll wanna be careful.”

Valkari frowned slightly. “She came here? Did she hurt you?”

“No, not really,” Dreyla said, shaking her head. Then a coy grin played at the corners of her lips. “I don’t think she expected me to pull that knife out of my boot.”

Valkari smirked. “Nice. So where did Sigrun go? Do you know?”

“Where do you think?” she scoffed, grin widening only further. “Tel Mithryn is the safest place on Solstheim.”

“You tricked her.”

“Yes. She left a few hours ago. Only a fool would challenge Master Neloth.”

“Then I guess I know where I’m headed.” Valkari reached into her pocket and pulled out a few septims. “Thanks for the information.”

Dreyla took the coin gladly.

“Any time, Serah. Any time.”

[]

Tel Mithryn peered out over the horizon and all was strangely quiet, more so than Valkari expected. Had Neloth already dispatched the attackers, she wondered. As she drew nearer, however, she heard the howling and moaning of the wind. Except it only grew louder the closer she got to the tower.

Just as she reached the crest of the rise a voice called out, “over here!”

Hunched down behind one of the nearby mushrooms was Talvas, Neloth’s apprentice. His hair was thick with ash and his robes were covered in it as well, and he looked scared witless. That was when the moaning roar caught her attention.

The courtyard between the three towers was littered with bodies of mercenaries and pirates, blistered and burned, some still smoking horribly, and floating between them was the source of the sound. It looked like some kind of atronauch made of thick clumps of ash, kicking up clouds as it moved, its core black and cold looking.

“What the hell is that?” she hissed, crouching next to Talvas out of the atronauch’s sight.

“It’s an Ash Guardian,” he hissed fearfully. “I conjured it, and now it’s running amok!”

‘Damn mages,’ Valkari thought to herself, glowering at Talvas. “Please tell me it killed all of the pirates who showed up here?”

“I-I think a couple of them got away. That woman showed up, started demanding we hand him over, though she wouldn’t say who,” he explained hurriedly. “When she drew her sword, I panicked and summoned the Guardian.”

“Let me guess, she was one of the ones who got away,” she sighed, shaking her head. Perfect, just perfect. “Alright. You stay here, and I’ll destroy that thing.”

“Okay, but please, hurry!”

Valkari drew her bow and moved away from the mushroom, edging her way along the ridge overlooking the courtyard. The Ash Guardian didn’t seem to have noticed her immediately, still moaning as it moved around the courtyard in search of fresh prey. Why it had stayed at Tel Mithryn was beyond her, but then, who could possibly know what sort of things motivated a daedra like this.

She took aim at the black, crystalline core at the centre of the Guardian - in truth it reminded her of the Ash Spawns’ cores when she killed them - and fired. The volcanic glass cracked, but the Guardian turned (what Valkari presumed was) its ugly, shapeless head in her direction. It reached into the ground and pulled up a fistful of ash which coalesced into a large, round boulder, and then set alight.

Valkari barely dodged out of the way in time, the fireball exploding beside her and leaving behind a crater in the ash. She fired another arrow, striking the core again. Another crack, but still the Guardian persisted, more viciously than before. It drove towards Valkari with a loud droning roar, swiping its club-like hand at her.

The wind whipped ash into her face and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tumbled out of its path, momentarily blinded.

“IIZ SLEN NUS!” she Shouted in what she hoped was the right direction. The drone being cut dead suddenly told her it was. 

She let her eyes open a crack and before her was the Ash Guardian, trapped in ice, looking like some sort of bizarre ice sculpture, with threads of frozen ash curling up around it in a spherical form, whilst ice spread from the core outwards, the ice highlighting the places her arrows had managed to crack it.

Rather than risk it breaking free, she took her blade and smashed the hilt into the cracked core, and the whole thing shattered, crumbling into a pile on the ground.

She turned away from the remains of the Guardian to Talvas who was peering out from his hiding place.

“It’s safe,” she called flatly, hands on hips.

He scurried out.

“I can’t thank you enough!” he sighed, clutching his heart. “Master Neloth surely would have punished me had he found out. I-I don’t have any gold, but…”

She raised a hand. 

“I’m here to see Neloth. If you can find me something that’ll make me some money back in town, he’ll never hear about it from me.”

He nodded nervously. “I can do that, I’ll just need a moment to find something. Master Neloth is up in the lab.” He gestured to the central tower. “Though he’s been very busy lately, I’m not sure he can spare the time to-”

“He can make time, I’m sure. Lead the way.”


	9. The Hunt

"Where is that ash sucking steward of mine? Varona!"

Neloth was marching around the lab scowling as Valkari and Talvas floated up to the platform waiting at the top. He looked around at the pair of them, brow furrowed and he made his way over to them.

“Talvas, have you seen Varona? I'm hungry," he demanded, glaring down at his apprentice.

“No, Master Neloth. You see, I-”

“Well find her! Tell her I want apple cabbage stew, with some canis root tea," he snapped, before his eyes flitted over to Valkari. “And see to this… visitor, whilst you’re at it,” he added disdainfully.

Talvas looked helplessly between them, mouth flapping somewhat as if trying to explain  _ why _ the visitor was there in the first place. Valkari rolled her eyes.

“I’m here to see you, actually,” she said, stepping forward and brushing Talvas off to one side. “There’s a ship full of pirates bound for Raven Rock. I need to stop them.”

“And that brings you to me  _ because _ ?” he clucked irritably, arms folded.

“The person they’re after worked for you once. Teldryn Sero.”

“Who? Oh, him.” Neloth shook his head and rolled his eyes. “His incompetence made this mess. Let’s see how he decides to clean it up.” He then turned to Talvas. “Well why are you still standing here boy? Go and find Varona!”

Talvas squeaked as he nodded and all but fled with his tail between his legs.

“As for you. I don’t recall inviting you into my tower, and I have rather more important things to be attending to,” Neloth snorted, barely glancing at Valkari as he swept away. “Good day.”

“Wait just one fucking minute,” Valkari growled, following after. “You are going to help me, whether you like it or not.”

Clearly Neloth wasn’t a man used to being spoken to in such a way - but then what mage ever was? He glowered at Valkari, turning on heel to face her.

“I am a Master Wizard of House Telvanni. Why on earth should I be interested in aiding you instead of reducing you to a pulpy mass?”

Valkari reached into her pack and pulled out  _ Waking Dream _ , and she smirked when she saw Neloth’s eyes widen with curiosity. His hand twitched and moved to take it, only for her to pull it out of reach.

“I know you’re studying the Black Books,” she said coolly. “As it so happens, so am I. I’m sure you’d be fascinated to look at this one-” the twitch of his brow told her that he very much  _ did _ want that “-but until I’m sure Raven Rock isn’t going to be picked over by Sigrun and her thugs, that won’t happen. So, you help me, and I help you. Deal?”

Neloth eyed her very carefully, as if trying to place her. Then he snapped his fingers.

“Ah, yes. Raven Rock. You’ve taken unusual interest in the place,” he commented. 

“I wasn’t aware that we were discussing my interests,” she replied airily.

“Oh very well,” he sighed. “In fact, maybe this could solve  _ two _ problems…”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Oh nothing too dangerous,” he said, shrugging. “It’s much safer for me to risk your life.”

Valkari rolled her eyes. Typical mage indeed. But still she followed as he made his way over to a rather ornate looking table that seemed to have a map of Tamriel carved into the surface. Tiny welkynd stones were encrusted into the edges, and a symbol traced in gold webbed its way over the map.

Neloth waved a hand over the table and the stones began to glow, all humming in quiet unison. Then the golden web glowed too, throwing a sparkling golden light over the table’s surface, whilst Neloth held his hands over the table with his eyes closed. Then it was over. The table fell dark and silent and Neloth looked at Valkari pointedly.

“Through some divinations, I believe I have located a ship somewhere to the south,” he said curtly. “Though maybe not. I’ve heard these…  _ pirates _ -” the word was dripping with sarcasm and disinterest “-have been seen somewhere in Skyrim too.”

“And the boss?”

“Wait a moment whilst I cast a more specific divination.”

The table lit up again, though even more briefly than the last time, and Neloth turned to Valkari, one hand glowing with magicka.

“This should do the trick.”

She didn’t even get to protest as he cast the spell on her. Suddenly the floor disappeared from beneath her feet and the lab vanished. She was falling, but she couldn’t make a single sound, her chest tight, lungs crushed. Her head was spinning, and for a frightening second she was back in Irkngthand, the water pressing in on all sides, forcing the air out, dragging her down into the icy depths.

Then her knees buckled, and she was on all fours, chest heaving and eyes watering. She curled her fingers and they dug into ashy soil, and she could hear the lapping of waves all around her. Slowly, she evened out her breathing before raising her head to look around.

It seemed Neloth had magically deposited her on a small island not far off of Solstheim’s coast. The ruins of the Atticus Farm were visible even from here. And a drawn out, pained groan told her that she wasn’t alone. Just below on the island’s shore was a person dressed from head to toe in plated armour which was painted a bloody red. It looked like it was their own. Nearby was, indeed, a boat, but definitely not the one she’d been looking for. It was a skiff, big enough for a handful of people and nothing more.

Valkari gathered herself, drew her blade and slowly approached the figure. With any luck, it was Sigrun, and somehow she doubted that even a fatal wound would stop her from attacking.

“Sigrun?”

The figure groaned and coughed, their head turning towards her, but it was unmistakably a man’s voice that came out from under the helmet.

“Oh for Nocturnal’s sake,” she groaned, running a hand through her hair.

“So… you’re the one who’s been helping that stupid fetcher?” sneered the mercenary, clutching the wound in his side. “Heh, too bad you weren’t there to save his arse this time. I gave as good as I got.”

“You say that, but you’re the only one I see bleeding to death here,” she retorted.

“Maybe so. But I slashed him good,” he jeered. “Pretty sure I severed an artery. Not sure what you’re gonna find in there… But you can probably just follow the blood.”

“If you’re hoping this’ll make me kill you so it’s over faster, you’re out of luck,” Valkari growled. “I think I’ll let you sit here and think whilst you bleed to death.”

He didn’t reply, just grunted. He didn’t even have the strength to stand, much less fight. But that was on his own head, and Valkari thought nothing of it as she took the skiff and rowed back to shore. The day she went in the water voluntarily was the day she’d eat her bow.

Coldcinder cave was crawling with more mercenaries and bounty hunters, all with weapons drawn. Valkari tailed close behind them.

“That bastard is in here somewhere,” one of them hissed. “The others already drove him out of Glowstone.”

“Are we sure we shouldn’t wait for back up?” another replied. “We lost how many people to those… ghost things.”

“Quiet, you big baby. We all saw what the boss did to him. That grey skin is as good as dead.”

“We’re supposed to bring him back _ alive _ , remember?”

“He’ll still be breathing by the time we haul him back to Sigrun, don’t worry.”

They didn’t get a chance to say more as they edged into a narrow passage that spontaneously flooded with dragon fire. By the time the last of the flames flickered out, all that remained were a few burned out husks. Valkari smirked as she stepped over them.

Soon enough she found Teldryn at the base of a flight of steps that led back towards the prisons. He had a bad wound in his side and was just sinking down to sit on the bottom step when Valkari arrived.

“Still alive, I see,” she remarked. “How’s that wound?”

“I can’t take this much longer,” he grumbled. The hand he had clasped over his wound started to glow with a pearly golden light as he tried to work healing magic into the damaged flesh, but the light stuttered and faltered, and then faded away. “Damn it. I’m tapped.”

Valkari dropped her pack next to him.

“Cuirass off,” she ordered, all too aware of the incredulous look she was being treated to. “Or, if you prefer, I could not treat it and leave you to die. How does that sound?”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, he did as he was told, removing his scarf and unstrapped his cuirass. It took a few minutes for him to remove all of the layers (how many did one armour set need?) until he was sat there shivering, the bloody wound in his side exposed. The merc wasn’t wrong, it looked as though he had managed to at least nick the artery. His skin was also covered in numerous tattoos, all dark violet like the ones on his face, just barely concealing the vast collection of scars underneath. Some looked older and more faded than others, and she could only guess how far back they went.

Valkari pulled out a healing potion and handed it to him as she gathered the poultice and bandages from her pack.

“Drink that. Helps take the edge off of the pain.”

“I’m thinking you get stabbed too much,” he grunted, lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Not really. But I did get very unlucky when I was younger,” she commented as she got to work. “Stabbed in the gut. A friend of mine had to patch me up.”

“And you didn’t threaten to kill them? How fortunate for them.”

“In my defense, I was paralysed on the floor when it happened and then passed out before she got to me. Didn’t exactly have the option of fighting back.” She paused as she dabbed the poultice into the bloody, ragged flesh, then added, “and I was a very scrawny fifteen year old. Not being able to fight back probably saved my life, actually.”

He nearly choked on the potion before he turned to stare at her with a look of horror mingled with incredulity.

“What sort of fifteen year old ends up taking a sword to the gut?” he exclaimed, brow furrowing. “Or is that just typical for nords?”

“Only if someone they trust turns out to be a traitorous, murdering backstabber,” she muttered. “And then decides that they’re a loose end that needs tying up.”

Teldryn had nothing to say in response to that, and they were silent whilst Valkari began to bandage the wound and he nursed the healing potion. Then he finally said, “you never did tell me how you do that thing.”

“What thing?”

He cocked a brow. “You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.”

“You know a few years back, I heard a few things about Ulfric Stormcloak,” he said quietly. “That he murdered your High King with his  _ voice _ . Quite literally shouted him apart.”

“And?”

“And you managed to throw me against a wall with your’s,” he pointed out. “You two exchange notes or something?”

Valkari sighed, tucking the bandage so that it was secure. 

“You’re not going to drop this until I tell you, are you?”

The look on his face told her that no, no he wasn’t. So she heaved a sigh.

“Fine. I’m Dragonborn. Happy?”

The long few seconds of silence that followed were accompanied by Teldryn moving from disbelief to awe to incredulity and several other emotions Valkari didn’t have names for before he finally said, “what?”

“I’m Dragonborn,” she repeated dryly. “Big hero ten years back. Killed a World Eater. Yelled at a bunch of politicians into not killing each other for five minutes. Slaughtered a couple dozen Thalmor. You know, typical nord stuff.”

He just shook his head in disbelief.

“Well aren’t I lucky that the great Dragonborn herself decided to lend me a hand?” he snorted, running a hand through his hair before glancing around at her. “You really are crazy, aren’t you Red?”

“Hey, if anyone’s crazy, it’s Akatosh for looking at me and thinking ‘yeah, this is a good person to give a dragon soul to. I’ll make sure the fate of the entire world rests on this one extremely reliable person, there is no way this could possibly go wrong,’” she said dryly, putting her things away into her pack. 

Teldryn snorted, an actual grin spreading over his face as he shook his head, apparently amused.

“So what happened to Geldis?” he asked as he slowly reached for his undershirt and pulled it back on. “He still safe at the Netch?”

“Dreyla said he ran off,” Valkari replied. “He had to fight back apparently.”

“Damn it…” he hissed.

“Have you seen Sigrun?”

He pulled on his cuirass and began to fasten it closed.

“I don’t know,” he said heavily. “Didn’t see her with the others. Maybe I’ll pay off my bounty this time…”

“Forget it. The bounty’s fake.”

Teldryn frowned, pausing halfway through clipping his belt back on.

“What?”

“It’s all a ruse. Sigrun just wants you alive.”

“Gods…” He rested his face in the palms of his hands, pressing his fingertips hard against his eyelids. “But why?”

“Because she thinks you murdered her husband, Voden.” She crossed her arms and rested them on her knees. “She posted the false bounty to trick the mercs into helping her.”

Teldryn scowled. “Damn it… lying tramp,” he hissed. “You said you went digging around back in Skyrim?”

Valkari nodded and reached into her pack, pulling out the letter she’d found in Voden’s grave.

“Brunwulf never did have Voden’s body recovered,” she said as she handed it over. “He’s still buried at Robber’s Gorge.”

Teldryn was silent as he read the letter, looking more worn and weary than ever.

“This doesn’t look like much,” he sighed.

“It’s all we’ve got, I’m afraid.”

“Well… I suppose we’ll have to try. What can it hurt?” he said heavily, folding up the letter and tucking it into his pocket and rising to his feet. “I think the next step is to get back to Raven Rock. Having some people around who know how to fight should-”

He stopped dead, hissing in pain and pressing his hand into his side as his knees buckled. Valkari caught him by the elbow, her free hand moving to the small of his back to keep him upright.

“Try not to die on me now Sero. I did just spend valuable time patching you up.” She waited until he was more steady on his feet before pulling her hands away. “Come on, I’ll get you back to the inn. I imagine it’d be a more comfortable place to lick your wounds.”

“That would be so kind of you, oh great Dragonborn.”

“You know, I think I preferred you calling me Red,” she said bluntly, turning to lead the way out, Teldryn limping behind her. “But Valkari will do.”

[]

There had been more fighting whilst they were gone. More wounded guards and more dead mercenaries. Things were clearly going from bad to worse, and Teldryn was doing his best to keep his head down as he limped behind Valkari. It didn’t stop a few townsfolk from throwing a dirty look his way. Perhaps they’d heard about him being the cause of their current misfortune, and it had come so soon after being freed from Miraak’s influence.

When they got to the Retching Netch, Captain Veleth was waiting inside. Upon seeing him at the bottom of the stairs, Teldryn did his best to hide his limp. The arch of Veleth’s brow suggested that he hadn’t been entirely successful.

“You out here for a reason?” asked Veleth, folding his arms over his chest as he gave Teldryn a very pointed look.

“Did you still want me to help you or not?” Teldryn growled through gritted teeth.

“We’re searching for clues that might lead us to wherever they’re coming from.”

“Well there’s nothing beyond the Bulwark. Once we’ve got something worth looking at, I’ll send word to you.”

“We’ve had another two assaults on the Bulwark because of you,” Veleth barked accusingly. “At this rate, we won’t be able to hold out against them.”

Teldryn glanced over at Valkari with a grim look on his face.

“Well isn’t that something,” he said dryly.

“Look. We think they’ve got a number of them hiding out at Fort Frostmoth. Seems that clearing out General Carius and the ash spawn served them as well as us. I could talk the Councillor into paying you, and we could always use an extra pair of hands, Sero.”

“Listen, I don’t care how much you’re paying me, there’s no way I’m doing that,” Teldryn scoffed. He shifted his weight onto his left leg and his face noticeably twitched. Trying to cover up the pain again.

“Then how about I pull a few men off watch and have a permanent footpatrol over there instead?”

“Have you taken leave of your senses?”

“We know they’ve been coming from that direction. What else do you want me to do?” Teldryn just made a disgusted noise and turned to walk away, and Veleth scowled after him. “But then seeing as you’re so  _ brimming _ with self confidence, maybe you’d care to take over for me?”

Teldryn paused for a moment then continued to walk away towards the vacant rooms. Veleth marched out, shaking his head in exasperation. Valkari arched an eyebrow but followed after Teldryn regardless as he let himself into one of the rooms. Geldis wasn’t exactly there to tell him no after all. Once the door was shut, he lowered himself down into a chair and groaned in relief.

“It’s strange being back after so long,” he commented as Valkari crossed to sit in the seat opposite. “I heard a lot of strange things happened here before the mercs started hitting the town directly.”

“You weren’t here when Miraak was taking over everyone’s minds then?” Valkari asked. 

He shook his head. “Obviously not. I was out in the ashlands, leading those witless idiots on a wild kwama chase. And when I got back, everything was running as normal. Didn’t even know anything was amiss until I heard people talking about some stranger who came and saved the town from this Miraak. Whoever he is.”

“He’s Dragonborn, like me,” Valkari said, shrugging and focusing on the door rather than him. “And if I’m recalling what I learned with the Greybeards correctly, he was the First.”

It felt like an age ago since Valkari had spent her time with Master Einarth in High Hrothgar’s library, studying ancient lore and history surrounding the Dragonborn and the Way of the Voice. Miraak had appeared in barest mentions in the annals of history, a mere footnote. The earliest recorded Dragonborn, and it seemed most agreed he was the First. Ironic then that she, the Last, was the one facing him. Or would be, when this mess was sorted.

“What’s going on with you and Veleth? Why not just help the guards?”

Teldryn just shrugged as he unfastened his cuirass again, magicka glowing at his fingertips. Already trying to rid himself of her mediocre attempts to tend his wounds.

“Those soldiers weren’t worth much,” he said dryly. “Of course, they might disagree. The dead ones, anyway.”

“I’m guessing you’ve got some idea of what we do next?”

“Do I?” he said airily, lifting up his undershirt and pressing healing magic through the bandages. A barely restrained sigh of relief escaped through clenched teeth. “...Just barely. Could have missed something though, I suppose...”

“Neloth made it sound like he’d found something. Though he might have been messing with me.” When Teldryn gave her a questioning look, she said, “I might have barged into his home and demanded his help. And swore at him in the process.”

Teldryn stared at her, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“You really  _ are _ completely crazy,” he breathed. “How in Oblivion did you even walk away from that alive?”

“No idea.” She shrugged. “Maybe he liked my charm.”

Teldryn scoffed.

“Well, either way, this seems to be something that fell outside my particular area of expertise.”

“You mean hitting things with a sword and setting people on fire? Because I’ve got you beat at one of those things. And it’s the thing you dunmer are supposed to be good at,” Valkari pointed out bluntly, lip curling.

“Yes, and I’m clearly far superior than you with a blade. In all honesty, your form is simply atrocious.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

Valkari leaned back in her seat. “Well if you’re so good, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

He seemed to tense up, frowning in confusion until she got to her feet and drew the Nightingale blade. She stood there smirking and gestured with the sword.

“Well? Are you going to show me? Or are you really just a terrible boast who just pretends he’s hot shit?”

That seemed to relax him before he grinned and rose to his feet. 

“I guess I could show you a thing or two. At least before we head out. Now first, your grip. Absolutely terrible, your wrist is flopping all over the place. It’s a miracle you’ve not taken an eye out yet. Unless you’re about to tell me that’s how that happened,” he added, tapping the spot beneath his right eye, indicating the scar under her own.

Valkari tried (and failed) to suppress a laugh.

“You be careful, or I’ll give you a one to match.”

[]

After an impromptu lesson in swordsmanship, and once Teldryn’s wound had finally settled down, the paired headed out towards Tel Mithryn. Strangely enough, Teldryn insisted on walking along the coast. Valkari wasn’t entirely sure why at first until she remembered. The coastal path led right past Fort Frostmoth where Veleth had sent his foot patrol. It seemed that someone felt more guilty about refusing to aid the Redoran Guard than he let on.

And soon enough he had reason.

Not far from the fort’s dock lay the bodies of the Redoran Guard patrol, throats slit, and with various stab wounds and dented armour. And sitting at the edge of the water, gazing out towards Red Mountain in the distance, was Geldis.

“Ash and ice, who did this!” Teldryn roared when his eyes fell upon the scene, face twisted into a snarl.

“The coasts have been dangerous lately,” Geldis said coolly. “And having a fortified position has made Sigrun’s men bold.”

“Damn bandits are worse than the vermin that infest the ash wastes back home,” Teldryn grunted, making a painfully obvious effort to not look too affected by the bodies.

“She’s never going to stop you know. She’ll keep sending thugs after you until you pay her, or kill her.”

“I doubt she’s interested in getting paid at this point,” Valkari remarked, bending over one of the bodies. Poor bastard had a sword driven through his gullet and out the other side. Never had a chance. She took the coin purse tied to his belt. It wasn’t like he was going to need it after all.

“Then we have no choice. We need to do everything in our power to destroy them,” Geldis said gravely, rising to his feet and turning to Valkari. “They’re tearing the place apart. Worse, this isn’t the only place they’re hiding out.”

“Makes sense. Holing up in one place just makes you easier to find,” Valkari said, shrugging her shoulders. “Any sense where the rest are?”

“I managed to track them to Frossell, but there were too many for me to take on alone,” he explained. “I back tracked here. Had a feeling his royal pain in the arse would want to come this way.”

“Why aren’t the two of you working together?”

“Simple. Because the stupid s’wit is going about this the wrong way. You do realise that he isn’t exactly the most popular person in Raven Rock right now, don’t you?” Geldis pointed out, throwing Teldryn a sharp glare. “If Sigrun gets the chance, she’ll stir up the locals and use them against the Redoran Guard.”

“And that’s the last thing we want. You think the bastards at Frossell might be able to tell us where Sigrun went?”

“I’m hoping so. The sooner we end this, the better off we’ll all be.”


	10. Sigrun

It didn’t take long to dispatch the mercenaries at Frossel. If they’d expected an attack, then they’d been preparing for a large contingent of Redoran Guard rather than two people who knew how to slip into their midsts undetected until the last moment. They were crippled before Teldryn even needed to move in. By the time they were done, the only one left was a badly wounded argonian who huddled on the floor, clutching a ragged wound in his side. Geldis had a boot on his throat, holding him in place. A sharp contrast to the friendly innkeeper facade he put up. 

“Where’s your boss?” Valkari asked sharply, glaring down at the pirate.

“Please,” he gasped wetly, blood dribbling out the side of his mouth and pooling on the ground. “He’ll have me killed!”

“Not Ramodo you idiot,” she snapped. “Where’s Sigrun?”

“Please… mercy!” he pleaded.

Valkari nodded at Geldis who pressed his foot more firmly over the argonian’s throat. He gagged and choked, trying to push him away. Valkari jerked her head and Geldis eased off the pressure.

“Please, there’s no need for this,” the argonian wheezed. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“So where is she?”

“When I asked her where she was going, she just said, ‘a cave can be a dangerous place. Don’t expect me to save you if you fall in.’ That’s all I know,” he said desperately.

“What cave? Frossel?”

“No… I don’t know which one she meant. Please, you have to believe me!”

Valkari scrutinized him for a moment then turned away.

Geldis lifted his boot from the argonian’s throat, but then without warning, he drew a dagger and plunged it right through his chest. There was a wet snap as his sternum shattered and a wet, strangled gasp as all the breath escaped him. His eyes rolled back and he was dead.

He said nothing as he slid his blade back out of the argonian’s chest and back into its sheath, his face cold and expressionless. Morag Tong indeed. He straightened up, turned away and began to march back along the shore.

“Come on, I think I know which cave he was talking about,” he called over his shoulder.

Valkari glanced to Teldryn who simply shrugged and the two fell into step together, just a little ways behind Geldis. Calling for Odahviing might have been faster, she thought, but would definitely attract too much attention. And asking him to carry two additional people might just be pushing the limits of his oath to her.

So they walked for hours, back down south, the sun arcing gracefully through the sky and dipping towards the horizon. The last remnants of its rays glittered at the fringes of the horizon as the three of them finally neared Raven Rock once again, stopping short of the town and towards the hatch leading down into Coldcinder Cave.

“You think she’s down in Glowstone Hall,” Teldryn murmured, eyes flitting over to Geldis as he pulled the hatch open.

“She knows you’ve been down there. Makes more sense than anything.”

They dropped down into the darkened cave and Valkari took the lead. If Sigrun and her men were lying in wait then it helped for Geldis and Teldryn to be out of the path of any dragonfire.

When they reached Glowstone Hall, Valkari paused and Shouted, “LAAS YAH NIR.”

The whisper swept over the hall, but nothing happened. The shadows remained dark and no figures flickered into view.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” she muttered.

“Just be ready for anything,” Geldis replied. “Sigrun’s been planning this for a long time. She’s probably accounted for any sort of detect life spells.”

That was a good point, though Valkari wasn’t certain there were measures against a Shout like Aura Whisper. If there were and Sigrun was employing them, then it was good reason to be cautious.

“Let’s check the buildings,” Teldryn suggested. “If she’s set up any concealing wards they’ll be in there, out of sight. I’ll check this one-” he pointed to the one where he’d made his first camp, the one where he and Valkari had fought “-and Val, you check the other one. Geldis, you can keep watch, make sure no one sneaks up on us.”

“Sounds like a plan. Just try not to get yourselves killed,” said Geldis.

Valkari crossed the hall towards the second building and stepped inside. The moment she did so, the bars over the doorway slid up and trapped her inside.

“What the fuck?” she hissed, peering out.

“Teldryn? Geldis? Little help?”

No sooner than she’d said it there was yelling. Geldis sprinted down into the hall, making to throw the switch to free Valkari. But just as he was in arm’s reach of it, something stopped him dead, and that was when she appeared, seemingly melting out of the shadows.

Sigrun was tall even for a nord woman, and dressed in carved armour that was covered in burns, dents, and scratches. Her long grey hair was braided down her back and her face was weathered and scarred, and right now she had Geldis by the wrist.

Geldis snarled and ripped his dagger from his belt and made to stab her, but Sigrun knocked his wrist away with ease and kneed him hard in the gut. Winded, he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. Sigrun just smirked and shook her head, letting him drop. Her hand flashed blue and a slender spear of ice stabbed itself through Geldis’ thigh.

“That should keep you from interfering,” she sneered, turning away and smirking as more of her men - including Ramodo - emerged from the other building, dragging a struggling Teldryn behind them. “Ah,  _ there _ you are. Did you really think you could evade me forever, you filthy murderer?”

The pirates dragged him until he was forcefully kneeling at her feet. One of his eyes was dark and bruised, and blood was leaking from his nose. Even so, he spat rather than answer, for which he was rewarded with a punch around the face.

Then she raised a hand and it glowed with icy blue magic. The two pirates holding him dropped him and skittered back as an icy cloak wrapped itself around him, holding him in place. He fell to the ground, immobile and shivering, the frost crawling over his skin and setting in place.

“I will have vengeance for the death of my husband, and you will suffer at my hands!” she declared.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!”

Dragonfire erupted from Valkari’s lips, but rather than pouring out through the bars as she thought it would, it simply came up against some invisible barrier and dissipated. She stepped back, jaw slack with shock.

Sigrun turned to her, smirking.

“Wondering why your little tricks aren’t working, Dragonborn?” she asked mockingly. “The minute I found out you were involved, I knew I’d have to be more careful if I didn’t want to end up like everyone else who got in your way. Neloth is a bigger fool than he lets on. I bet he still hasn’t realised that his daedric warding stones are missing.”

Valkari glared at her. 

“Here’s an idea, how about you stop for one second and listen to me before you make a mistake,” she growled.

“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Sigrun retorted. “Otherwise mind your business.”

“Your idiot husband got himself killed, Teldryn isn’t to blame. He’s innocent.”

“No, he isn’t. And there’s not a damn thing you can do to convince me otherwise.” She turned away. “Do you really think I don’t know what happened that day? How this piece of filth left Voden to die? Does that sound like innocence to you?”

“It sounds like being smart to me,” Valkari shot back. “Voden knew what he was getting into. Had he been smarter, he wouldn’t be dead.”

“You shut your whore mouth!” Sigrun yelled, rounding back on Valkari and grabbed her by the collar through the bars, pulling her close.“One more fucking word out of your mouth, and I  _ will _ kill you. Understand?”

Her eyes were narrowed dangerously, her lip curled and baring her teeth. Valkari had never seen someone more resemble a bear in that moment than Sigrun did in that moment. Still she glared right back, and after a solid minute of unrelenting silence, Ramodo cleared his throat.

“Boss. We should get moving.”

Sigrun held her stance a few seconds before finally roughly shoving Valkari back, releasing her collar and turning away.

“Get these two fools back to the ship,” she barked at the other pirates, then turned to Ramodo. “Keep an eye on this one and make sure she doesn’t escape. I’ll send word when it’s time for you to get back to the ship.”

Ramodo nodded curtly as she strode out, the other pirates gathering up Teldryn and Geldis’ limp forms and dragging them out behind her. Only once they were gone did Ramodo approach the bars.

“Well look who it is,” he remarked dryly, cocking an eyebrow.

“Still working for Sigrun I see,” Valkari scoffed, glaring at him. “You’re really not very bright, are you?”

He glared back at her.

“Last I checked, you’re the one stuck in a cage.”

“And you’re the one helping Sigrun, so who’s the real idiot here?” She sighed heavily. “Look, Sigrun made up the whole bounty. You’re not going to get anything out of helping her. I, on the other hand, am pretty good at keeping my word. Help me and I can put an end to all of this once and for all.”

“So now you’re trying to buy me off? That’s rich,” he snorted. “I doubt there’s anything you could offer that’ll outweigh what Sigrun has on me.”

“And what would that be? It can’t be a bounty, you’re not nearly smart enough to be a master criminal.”

“Because insulting me is really going to get me to help you.”

“So if it’s not money she has on you, what is it? A life perhaps? Not your’s otherwise she’d have left someone she actually trusted to keep an eye on you so… Someone you care about?”

At that he froze, eyes bulging and lip twitching.

“Ah, so  _ that’s _ it,” she said triumphantly. “Well then let me put it this way: what guarantee do you have that Sigrun will even let you and this person walk free after all this is over? How do you know she hasn’t killed them already and is just stringing you along with empty promises?”

“Shut up!” he barked, fists clenched.

“You have no idea, but you know she can’t be trusted. You let me out of here, and maybe I can do something to help you out. Whether that’s getting this person back from Sigrun, or killing her to make her pay for what she’s done. Your choice.”

“I should bash your face in!” Ramodo spat, glaring at her with contempt. 

“And what good will that do you in the end?”

He turned away and folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head. Then he turned back, reached into his pocket and pulled out a rusty iron key.

“I can’t just let you out. The wards will tell Sigrun if that switch gets thrown again,” he explained. “This opens a hatch in that room you’re in. I’ll give you a chance to find your way out, and that’s it.”

Valkari took the key.

“There, now was that so hard?”

He said nothing and simply walked away.

[]

“Why is it  _ always _ dwemer ruins?” Valkari grumbled as she managed to creep past a few stationary centurions. She could tell they weren’t inactive, just in a resting state, much like the one in Irkngthand all those years ago.

The tunnels below Glowstone Hall had extended deeper into the earth, and the dwemer architecture had become more and more apparent the further she went until she reached the cavernous hall with collapsed walkways, abandoned labs, and apparently one way out. A dwemer lift which she really hoped headed up rather than down.

It was just a matter of reaching it.

She scrambled up a partially collapsed walkway, trying not to think too much about the fall into the water below. It was survivable, sure, but she’d rather avoid getting in there if she could help it.

Finally she managed to reach the gate barring the way to the lift. It was locked tight, but locks were Valkari’s specialty.

The dwemer, however, were determined to make it as difficult as possible, and it took her longer than she wanted to admit to break the lock open. When it did, the gate swung open and Valkari wasted no time throwing the switch.

To her immense relief, the lift began to rise, the gears squealing as they began to turn.

[]

Some more darkened tunnels later, and Valkari finally emerged into the light of day, the sun stinging her eyes. How long had she been down there? Long enough it seemed. 

The tunnels hard brought her out into the remains of an dilapidated wooden shack, and once her eyes adjusted she could see a ship out on the water, bobbing with the surf. Except it wasn’t the only one. Several longboats bearing the crest of House Redoran on their sails were up alongside the ship, and she could see smoke.

Sigrun.

Valkari raced down towards the shoreline, skidding to a halt at the water’s edge. To her immense relief, someone had left a row boat.

“Hope you don’t mind,” she muttered, pushing it out and jumping aboard.

The closer she got, the louder the sounds of battle grew. It was obvious that the pirates were overwhelming the Redoran Guard, pushing them back onto the longboats which were aflame, and it didn’t look like the guards had any real foothold aboard the ship.

She did her best to get the boat as close to the ship as possible, aiming her bow and shooting the nearest pirate. She fell backwards into the water and didn’t reappear.

“Good timing!” yelled one of the guards. 

She gave a little salute before climbing aboard the nearest longboat, sword ready.

Having another blade on their side seemed to give the guard a much needed boost, as they fought harder than ever, throwing the pirates overboard and hacking at them with swords. Valkari moved from one longboat to another until she was in reach of the ladder hanging off from the side of the ship.

With a deep breath, and trying not to think too hard about the icy depths below, she leapt.

The ladder groaned slightly, but she managed to clamber up. There was yelling from the deck and a pirate appeared above her, sword ready, until an arrow caught him square in the chest. With a small ‘oh’ he toppled down and fell into the water with a splash.

More arrows flew as more pirates rushed to try and stop Valkari, and by the time she was clear to climb up, the deck was slick with blood and covered in corpses.

She didn’t stop to admire the scenery and headed inside. If there was any chance of learning what Sigrun had done with Teldryn and Geldis, it would be in the captain’s quarters. With any luck, Sigrun herself would be there too and Valkari could finish her off, then and there.

As it happened, Sigrun wasn’t there, but she’d left a note on her desk, wedged in between some pages of the ship’s logbook along with a key.

_ That fetcher Geldis thought he escaped. He doesn’t know that I let him go on purpose. He’ll tell the mushroom wizard to destroy the ship, so let him. Teldryn will be murdered by his own friend. And it’s time for my crew to die.  _

_ Drassam Ramodo and his sister Ashanti, Bones the Orc, Gahrol the Boatman, and the merchant cat. They will all suffer the same fate. _

_ I don’t care if the dunmer is innocent. He should have protected my Voden. _

“This is like Mercer all over again,” Valkari hissed. “Just less careful about leaving her information all over the place.”

She shouldn’t be surprised that Sigrun would leave everyone to die whilst she made her getaway. But the part about Geldis and Neloth worried her. Unless they got off the ship soon, they were all dead for sure.

Valkari grabbed the key Sigrun had left and headed down into the depths of the ship.

[]

It was the stench of blood and burnt flesh that led Valkari to the prison. It was a small room with two sets of manacles on the far wall, and chained up in one of them was Teldryn. He’d been stripped of his armour, and his body was covered in wounds. Blood dribbled out from between his lips and he struggled to even raise his head as Valkari stepped inside.

Leaning up against the nearby wall was Ramodo, and sitting nearby was an orc - probably the Bones that Sigrun had mentioned in her note. Both of them were facing Teldryn and didn’t seem to have noticed her enter.

“You’d better kill me while you have the chance,” Teldryn spat through a mouthful of blood.

“Shut up, scum,” Ramodo barked, arms folded across his chest.

“Malacath take you!”

“I said shut up, scum!”

“N’wah!”

“I’m not kidding, I  _ will _ hurt you if you don’t shut it!”

“Not impressed!”

Ramodo growled and drew his sword, marching up to Teldryn and leering over him. Teldryn just glared at him silently.

“Hm.” Ramodo sheathed his sword and turned away. “That’ll teach him.”

“That’s it? Ha! Coward,” Teldryn taunted.

“I’m not going to warn you again!” 

Ramodo drew his blade again and touched the tip of his blade to Teldryn’s throat. As he did so, Teldryn bellowed, “Boethiah inspire me!” and his hands erupted in flames.

Ramodo yelped and stumbled backwards, sword dropping from his hand as he scrambled to get away. Teldryn laughed spitefully, though it soon devolved into a hacking cough as more blood splattered onto the ground, and the flames dissipated from his hands.

“Teldryn, take the man’s advice and shut up before it gets you killed,” Valkari said bluntly, walking further into the room.

The three men all looked around at her in surprise, and she could have sworn she saw Teldryn grinning.

“What are you doing here?” Ramodo demanded, grabbing up his sword again.

“And you calm down before I have reason to hurt you,” she said pointedly. “It’s Sigrun we want.”

“And why is that?”

Valkari reached into her pocket and pulled out Sigrun’s note.

“How about the fact she’s leaving you, your sister, and everyone else here to die?” she said coolly. “I told you she wasn’t going to just let you walk.”

Ramodo read the note and he scowled as Bones rose to his feet.

“Let me see that,” he demanded, glowering at Valkari.

Ramodo complied and gave the note to Bones who read it.

“Well shit… Ramodo. Go find the others and tell them to start hauling arse up to the top deck,” he ordered. Then he turned to Valkari. “As for you-! Wait… what’s wrong with the sky?”

It felt like time had slowed to a stop as the sky turned a familiar red and grey, much like when Alduin had attacked Helgen. The light flooded the room through the window above Teldryn, throwing its pale red glow over everything, and the air grew steadily warmer.

“Fuck,” Valkari hissed, turning to Bones and Ramodo. “Get everyone moving,  _ now _ !”

“Gods help us!” Teldryn cried, and somewhere nearby, something exploded. 

The boat rocked forcefully again and again and again, the explosions continuing until finally a fireball crashed in through the window and the room began to burn.

“GO!” Valkari bellowed, and Bones and Ramodo wasted no time in running. 

Valkari charged across the room, the flames washing over her like they were nothing. She reached Teldryn who was trying to fight his restraints to no avail, undoubtedly weakened by the torture. 

This time Valkari didn’t waste time with lockpicks and drew the Nightingale blade, smashing the pommel over the first manacle until it came away with a snap. There was enough explosion and more fire flooded the room, smoke billowing upwards and filling the air.

Valkari’s eyes were watering and her lungs were searing painfully. She smashed off the second manacle and dragged Teldryn’s arm around her shoulders.

“C’mon you moron, we need to get out of here!” she growled, half hauling him through the burning room. It didn’t bother her, and his fire resistance ought to offer him some degree of protection.

At least she hoped it would.

They staggered through the ship’s hull, the flames somehow even worse than they were in the prison.

Flame atronauchs stalked the halls, hellbent on burning everything in their path to cinders. Neloth’s doing, no doubt.

“Couldn’t have waited just a little bit longer, could you Geldis?” Teldryn coughed.

“Shut up and try not to die on me, you arsehole!” Valkari snapped. “FUS RO DAH!”

The atronauch was forcefully thrown out of their path and crashed through a nearby wall. They managed to hobble up the stairs and reached the door leading out onto the deck. Except it wouldn’t budge. The heat of the flames had melted the lock and hinges.

“Fuck!” Valkari hissed.

“No time to break through,” Teldryn muttered, turning towards Sigrun’s quarters. “We’re going to have to jump for it.”

Not what she wanted to hear, but it was a choice between being trapped and inevitably drowning when the ship sank, or taking a risk and jumping for it. Between drowning and swimming, she’d choose the option that was less likely to end up in her dead.

So they made a break for the captain’s cabin. The formerly beautiful room was now ablaze, the flames devouring the maps and the ship’s log. At the back of the room was the large, ornate window, their last hope for escape. And the latch on that was melted too.

“Come  _ on _ !” Valkari hissed, but Teldryn grabbed her hand.

“Together,” he said firmly.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but nodded and gripped his hand back.

“One.”

“Two…”

“Three!”

They took a running jump, and the glass shattered as they smashed through it. Valkari held tightly onto Teldryn’s hand as they plummeted down into the icy water, the churning waves determined to tear them apart. She held on tight, but sure enough his hand slipped out of her’s and she lost sight of him as she was dragged under the waves.

Suddenly she was fifteen again, trapped in the depths of Irkngthand. No way out, no air, no hope, just the water pressing in on all sides, determined to claim her for itself.

But this time, she reminded herself, there was no stone ceiling to keep her there.

So she fought, desperately clawing to try and reach the surface. She could see the churning surface drawing closer, even at the current tried to force her back down.

Her head began to spin, her lungs screaming for air, her heart thundering in her chest as her vision began to blur. Her limbs seemed to stop responding, trying to carry out her commands, but not quite understanding them.

The water pushed her down again. 

Everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up a month late with a starbucks* okay so in my defense, I was depressed, writing is hard and I was doing my best okay


	11. Retribution

Valkari’s lungs seized as she broke the surface and she tasted salt as she heaved up lung fulls of water. Her limbs flapped helplessly, trying to keep her head above the surface, as it took her a moment to realise that someone was dragging her out of the water by the collar. She tried to blink the water from her eyes, but spots were dancing in her vision and nothing was clear.

More water came up and she was sure she was going to be sick. She was shivering from head to toe from more than just the cold, her whole body heavy and limp. She was alive somehow. Alive and soaked through, lying on a pebbled beach, the round wet stones shifting beneath her.

But then her saviour threw her to the ground, still lying in the surf, and Valkari’s vision cleared just in time to realise that she was no saviour at all.

Sigrun towered over her, bloodied and burned and her face twisted into a feral snarl, chest heaving.

“I should have known better than to trust those idiots to keep you locked up!” she snarled, pressing her foot firmly down on Valkari’s shoulder and slamming a fist into the side of her face.

She let out a pained yelp and tried to kick out at Sigrun to force her away. But she was still drained and her head was still spinning, and that coupled with the weight of both Sigrun and her armour meant that her efforts made little difference.

“And that damned Telvanni,” she spat, pressing her knee into Valkari’s other shoulder, caging her. “Care to explain how he knew where to find me to send his pets after me?”

“Probably listened for the sound of betrayal and followed that,” Valkari gasped, this time bracing herself for the blow which was sure to follow. The pain exploded in the side of her head and she felt blood trickle from her nose this time, but she couldn’t stop herself smirking.

“You don’t get it, do you? I  _ won _ ,” Sigrun hissed, wrapping a hand around her throat and squeezing. “Teldryn Sero is  _ dead _ . Just like my Voden. And now, you’ll be joining them!”

She pulled out a blade and held it over Valkari’s heart.

“Right because this is very impressive,” she managed to choke out, still smirking. “Only being able to kill me half-drowned. You really are a coward.”

Sigrun’s lips turned downwards into an ugly frown.

“Don’t call me that!” she hissed.

But Valkari just laughed.

“It’s funny, I always thought that maybe you always hanging back to let your men do the dirty work was because you were being smart,” she went on giddily, still grinning. “But you’re just an idiot coward who leaves a paper trail everywhere she goes. Next time, maybe try burning the letters. A child of five could have caught up to you. It’s just embarrassing.”

“And yet  _ you’ll _ be the dead one,” Sigrun hissed. “Wouldn’t you rather beg for your life?”

“Why? To give you the satisfaction?” Valkari laughed. “If I’m going to die, there is no way in hell that I’m going to let you enjoy it. Besides, it just proves I’m  _ still _ smarter than you.”

“SHUT UP!”

But before Sigrun could actually thrust the blade downwards, someone slammed a length of driftwood into the side of her head, bowling her away across the ground. The pressure suddenly vanished from around Valkari’s neck and she gasped, rolling onto her side and forcing herself to sit up as she coughed, bringing up a bit more sea water before she finally looked up.

Standing there, dripping wet, burned, and worn, was Teldryn. Valkari grinned up at him.

“You took your sweet time,” she said, voice raspy. He extended a hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her up. She felt the gentle rush of magicka flowing from his hand into her’s, giving her a much needed boost. The fatigue faded and her lungs were cleared.

He looked awful. Drenched through and wearing nothing more than the tattered trousers the pirates had left him in, his body covered in cuts, burns, and bruises. But he was alive too, and that was what counted.

“And for once your love of snarking away at your opponent did you a favour,” he noted dryly.

She laughed, tossing her sodden hair over her shoulder.

“You say that like she wasn’t standing around talking too.”

“Shut up! Both of you shut up!” Sigrun screamed.

She was back on her feet, holding her sword at the ready.

“You’ll pay! All of you will pay!”

They dodged sideways as she swung her sword at them, Valkari going left and Teldryn going right. Valkari reached to grab an arrow only to find her quiver empty. Cursing, she held her bow up just in time to block Sigrun’s blow, parrying the blade away.

“FUS!”

Sigrun staggered backwards, pushed back by Unrelenting Force, and Valkari darted out of her reach, shouldering her bow and drawing her sword before the older nord could recover. The ground was unstable though, the pebbles shifting constantly under her feet, and getting her footing was harder than she would have liked.

A burst of flame erupted against Sigrun’s armour and she shrieked furiously, turning to Teldryn whose hand was ablaze. He was smirking.

“Talos smite you!” Sigrun screamed, charging at him with her sword in hand. And he was unarmed.

Without so much as a thought, Valkari tossed the Nightingale Blade and he caught it effortlessly, parrying the blow before grabbing Sigrun’s face with his free hand and she screamed as a burst of fire erupted from his palm.

She wrenched herself from Teldryn’s grasp and staggered backwards, throwing up a ward of ice to protect herself. But the damage was already done. Her silver hair had caught fire, the long braid alight and burning, and her face was badly burned.

“Looking a little hot under the collar there, Sigrun,” he taunted, eyes flicking over to Valkari as she moved into position just a little ways behind Sigrun.

He tossed the sword and Valkari caught it. She ran up to Sigrun, attempting to throw the blade around her neck, but the older nord was quick and threw her free arm up to block the blow with her gauntlet. She jabbed backwards with her elbow and Valkari barely darted backwards out of her reach in time to avoid being winded.

Sigrun backed up, sword in hand, half her face now badly distorted with burns and weeping blood. Her free hand was clutched over the wounds, pouring healing magic into them, trying to rid herself of the pain. Her lips were twisted into a feral snarl and her teeth were bared, giving her the appearance of a very angry bear.

“Looks like you didn’t really think this plan through very well,” Teldryn sneered.

“SHUT UP!” Sigrun screamed, throwing out her hand.

A spear of ice sailed past Teldryn’s head, going wide and shattering on a nearby rock. She charged forwards and Valkari darted forwards. She reversed her grip on her blade, like Teldryn had shown her, and threw Sigrun’s blade sideways, throwing her off balance. 

Valkari moved backwards, passing the sword to Teldryn as he moved in. Sigrun didn’t regain herself in time. He grabbed her by the throat and drove the blade up through her jaw, the tip emerging out of the back of her head.

She choked and blood spurted from her lips, her eyes wide in shock. She grasped at the hand clutching her throat, lips twitching as if trying to snarl again. Then she went limp and Teldryn let go. She slumped and slid from the blade, collapsing to the ground. Teldryn stood over her a moment, gazing down at her lifeless form.

“Gods guide you,” he murmured, turning away from the body and back to Valkari. 

He looked sobered which was not quite what she would have expected. He held out the blade and she took it, resheathing it as she eyed him curiously.

“That almost sounded like remorse,” she pointed out, arching an eyebrow. “I would have thought you’d be happy to see her dead, all things considered.”

He shrugged. 

“She wanted to avenge someone she loved. I can hardly fault her for that.”

“Even if she was lying about you being a murderer?”

“But she wasn’t. Not really.” He turned away, watching the burning remains of the ship sinking below the waves, smoke billowing into the sky and mixing with the clouds of ash. “I left Voden to die. I might not have held the blade that killed him, but I didn’t stop it.”

“And if you had tried, you would have died too. You can’t blame yourself for someone else’s decisions,” Valkari said firmly, walking up behind him. “Voden made his choice, he knew the odds were against him. He decided to go it alone and that got him killed. Not you.”

Teldryn hung his head and for a long few moments there was silence, broken only by the water lapping against the shore, before he turned back to her. He looked exhausted but there was a softness to his eyes.

“Thanks Val,” he murmured.

Something inside her hummed warmly at that, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. She shrugged it off. There were more important things to be worrying about besides fuzzy feelings she wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

“No problem. Now come on. We need to find a way back to Raven Rock, hopefully one that doesn’t involve anymore swimming.”

They had to pause every few minutes as they trekked the island where they had washed up on account of Teldryn’s injuries. Again Valkari couldn’t help but wish she’d inherited some of her mother’s magical aptitude if only to ease his pain a little. She didn’t exactly have any healing potions on her at the moment.

It would also be useful if she knew where they had ended up exactly. The pebbled beach turned to snow drifts and a few scattered conifer trees which grew denser further inland. Bits of the Sea Tiger had washed up too - barrels, crates, furniture and driftwood, all burned and blackened.

After wandering the shoreline for nearly an hour, they finally came upon some sign of other survivors. A thin column of grey smoke spiralling into the overcast sky.

Sure enough as they clambered over a rocky outcrop, they spied other survivors of the Sea Tiger huddled around a fire a distance from the water’s edge, including Ramodo, Bones, an argonian, a young breton woman, and a khajiit.

The group glanced up at the sound of their approach and they seemed to relax, if only a little.

“Well shit. I can’t believe you made it out of that mess,” said Ramodo. “I’m starting to wonder if anything could kill you.”

“Her love of talking might,” Teldryn noted, earning him an elbow in the ribs, which swiftly prompted a hiss through clenched teeth. “Okay, okay. Now can you stop doing Sigrun’s work for her?”

“I barely touched you, you big baby,” Valkari said bluntly. “Anyone know any healing magic? This idiot could use a little help.”

The breton girl - Zhena - shyly volunteered herself and began to tend Teldryn’s wounds, levering him down into a sitting position against some crates whilst Valkari crossed over to Ramodo a short distance from the fire.

“Sigrun is dead,” she said shortly. 

“Good. Not that it does me much good anymore.” Ramodo glowered out over the Sea of Ghosts. “Maybe listening to you wouldn’t have been such a stupid thing to do.”

“Your sister didn’t make it?”

“No.”

A short, harsh answer with more pain behind it than Ramodo was willing to reveal. She could understand that, and so she said nothing, opting instead to look out over the water.

After several long minutes, he said, “Gharol can get you back to Solstheim.”

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be going back.”

“I’m pretty sure the Redoran guard would kill me on sight. And besides, it’s not like there’s anything left there for me anymore,” he said, shrugging.

“Fair enough.”

[]

Raven Rock was a welcome sight, when all was said and done, and the resolution of the attacks on the town had people in good spirits. Between that and the re-opening of the ebony mines, Councillor Morvayn saw fit to authorise a party of sorts for the town. There was drinking, singing, dancing, and all around merry-making, so it was somewhat unsurprising for Valkari to find Teldryn sitting on the bulwark, away from the party and staring out over the water.

She had two mugs of sujamma, one in each hand, and had traded out her armour for a plain shirt and breeches. Not something she did very often when away from home, if she was honest, and usually for good reason. Usually she had too many people trying to kill her.

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying all the attention, Swordsman,” she noted.

“If that’s your idea of a nickname, it’s shitty,” he replied, not quite looking around her.

“What, and Red isn’t?” She seated herself beside him and held out one of the cups. “You look like you could do with being pissed.”

He hesitated a moment but then took the cup, smiling ever so slightly. He then held it up.

“Cheers.”

Valkari tapped her’s against it with a ‘clunk.’

“Here’s to being on this side of the dirt,” she replied, lip curling before taking a swig of the drink. It was sweet with a sharp kick, sharper than anything they made in Skyrim but she choked down on the gag so that he wouldn’t notice.

“So. What’s next for the almighty Dragonborn?” Teldryn asked, leaning back with his free hand propping him up.

“I get back to why I came here,” she replied simply. 

“Right. Miraak.”

A long silence fell between them as they sipped on their drinks, the music floating through the air coupled with the slapping of waves on rock as the tide lapped at the base of the bulwark. Secunda and Messer were round and full in the sky, gleaming against the backdrop of stars and inky darkness, and a gentle glow of orange firelight washed over the pair. Teldryn turned to Valkari, watching her for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak.

“Val, I-”

“Nightingale!”

He was cut off by a loud, obnoxious caw as a large black crow fluttered down, accompanied by its murder. The Knight of Marrow.

“Hullo Knight,” Valkari yawned, stretching and turning to face the bird, not quite catching sight of the stunned look on Teldryn’s face. “Let me guess, you’ve got another message for me. One sent from someone else?”

“Indeed Nightingale, indeed!” Knight cawed. “Another raven, as stupid as the last. Most probably because it came from the Mushroom Tower!”

“Tel Mithryn? What’s the message?”

Knight cleared his throat.

“Dragonborn, I have upheld my end of our bargain and it is time you upheld your’s. Come to Tel Mithryn tomorrow morning - no sooner than the eight hour and no later than the ninth - and we shall discuss our mutual interest in the Black Books in greater detail. Master Neloth of the Great House Telvanni.”

Valkari heard Teldryn groan behind her, and he definitely made no attempts to be quiet. She felt much the same way about the insufferable wizard, but he was her best bet of getting to Miraak, so she’d just have to go along with it.

“Thanks for the message Knight.”

“Anytime Nightingale. Come my murder!” he squawked at the other, smaller crows. “There is yet more work for us to do!”

Valkari turned back to the view and could  _ feel _ the strange look Teldryn was giving her. She just flashed a grin at him.

“Something on my face, Sero?”

He flinched - physically flinched - and shook his head. Not to deny her statement, but rather to pull himself together before he looked back out over the water.

“You,” he said, taking a swig of his drink, “are without doubt, the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”

"I'll take that as a compliment."


	12. The Gardener of Men

“And the oh-so-great hero returns,” Neloth drawled as Valkari and Teldryn stepped off of the platform into the lab. He then glanced over at Teldryn and sniffed disdainfully. “And she brings… company.”

The two mer glowered at one another, and Valkari shot Teldryn a warning glance.

“Let’s just say he’s paying what he owes, considering I saved his arse,” she said coolly. “But I don’t think you called me here to chat about my affairs, did you?”

“Certainly not,” Neloth concurred. “Now, you wished to discuss with me the Black Books, the tomes of esoteric knowledge that old Hermaeus Mora has scattered throughout the world.”

That confirmed her fears concerning the Daedric Prince’s involvement, at least. It really had been too much to hope that the shrine in Miraak’s temple had been there by sheer coincidence. But then she’d never been much of an optimist really.

“I’ve had my run ins with Hermaeus Mora,” she said. “Even found his Oghma Infinium.” And then immediately locked it in a box and threw it into the Sea of Ghosts out of sheer spite.

Neloth’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Have you? The actual Oghma Infinium? That's... I've searched for it myself for many years without success…” He scratched his chin. “Well then, you should know better than anyone that Hermaeus Mora is not to be trifled with. But he is subtler than most of the other Daedric Princes, as you would expect of the prince of knowledge and fate. You seem to have escaped the fate of many who find themselves ensnared forever by the lure of his secrets. Or... perhaps not."

He was now regarding her with a strange fascination and she could see the gears in his mind whirring behind his eyes. Frankly it made her feel like she was suddenly a very interesting specimen he wanted to dissect, which was a very uncomfortable feeling indeed.

“Look, I’m here because I need to stop Miraak,” she explained before he could get any ideas. “And if he has Hermaeus Mora’s knowledge, then I’ll need it too.”

"Now that is a dangerous path indeed. Hermaeus Mora gives nothing away for free. You may end up like Miraak, of course. Two power-mad Dragonborn. It could be very interesting." He shrugged. “As it so happens, I have a Black Book right here. I’ve been using it to locate the others.” 

He waved his hand towards the Divination table, and sitting in the centre was a Black Book. “I haven't been idle while this fascinating madness engulfed Solstheim. But my book isn't what you're looking for. I'm quite sure it is unconnected with this Miraak."

“But you know where we can find one that is?” Teldryn asked scornfully.

"Yes I do,” was the curt reply. “I haven't been able to get it, though. But maybe together we can unlock the secrets the Dwemer left behind."

“The Dwemer?” She frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “What do they have to do with this?”

"Forbidden knowledge was somewhat a specialty of the dwarves,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “You don't think they would just leave it alone, do you? It seems the ancient Dwemer discovered this book and took it to study. I have found their 'reading room' in the ruins of Nchardak. The book is there, but it's sealed in a protective case which I wasn't able to open. But perhaps the two of us together will be able to get the book.”

“And then I could use it to find a way to Miraak,” she said. “Nchardak it is, then.”

“Right, because no bad ever came from sticking your nose in a dwemer ruin,” Teldryn sighed, shaking his head.

Honestly Valkari felt much the same way. Dwemer ruins were perhaps her least favourite places in all of Tamriel. They were usually crawling with automatons, giant spiders, chaurus, and falmer, were riddled with traps, and one time she’d very nearly drowned in the depths of one such ruin. In fact, it was something of an understatement to say they were her least favourite place in Tamriel. Perhaps in all of creation and beyond.

But if Nchardak was the place to go, then no amount of hatred and loathing was keeping her away.

[]

The trek along the shore to Nchardak was largely silent, only occasionally punctuated by Neloth speaking a bit more about the ruin and the dwemer who had lived there. The one thing that particularly stood out to Valkari - and left her feeling a bit sick - was the part about the city largely being submerged underwater.

Neloth went on to say that the room with the book was close to the surface, above the water level, but that did little to sooth her nerves. Nothing was ever straight forward after all. In fact she was willing to bet every septim she had that to get the book that there was going to be some amount of swimming involved. And, unsurprisingly, her most recent water-related experience hadn’t exactly alleviated her fear of the stuff.

Soon enough Nchardak came into view, and the ruins were indeed half-submerged, with tower tops and tops of buildings peeking out from the water, connected by walkways, some from the original structure and others clearly assembled more recently with what looked like bits of salvage from shipwrecks. Smoke curled into the air a short distance away from behind a domed roof and the first arrow flew right at Valkari’s head. 

In one fluid motion Teldryn stepped in front of her and effortlessly parried it away with his sword, his eyes narrowed.

“Reavers,” he hissed. “A whole camp of them.”

"I had to clean out the riff-raff last time I was here, too. Where do they come from?” said Neloth, hands sparking with magicka whilst Valkari readied her bow, aiming just past Teldryn in the direction the arrow had come from.

There was silence and another arrow flew fast. Teldryn parried it again as Valkari fired back at the Reaver. With a loud  _ thunk! _ it struck them dead between the eyes before they could duck back behind a pile of rubble, and the rest broke cover.

The Reavers surged out of hiding, yelling in dunmeris as they charged, swinging their weapons in some attempt at an intimidation tactic.

“FUS RO DAH!” Valkari Shouted, and a pulse of energy surged forwards, blasting the Reavers back. The foremost of the group went flying backwards into their fellows, knocking them from their feet. The rest staggered and Neloth began muttering under his breath, holding one palm out flat and moving his fingers in a stirring motion just above it. As he did so, the water began to churn and the sky darkened with storm clouds as a fierce wind roared to life.

The Reavers hesitated, eyes widened. One yelled ‘GET TO COVER!’ just as the air crackled with electricity and a bolt of lightning erupted from the heavens with a deafening boom.

The Reavers scattered, those lucky enough to escape running for cover as the rain began to pour and the sky rumbled ominously. Valkari and Teldryn followed suit as another bolt of lightning struck and a portion of the domed building was reduced to rubble.

“We need to get to the ruin entrance!” Neloth yelled over the howling wind. “It’s the building at the very end!”

“He says that like it’s supposed to be easy,” Teldryn said to Valkari, having to raise his voice just to be heard.

Valkari aimed her next arrow, striking an approaching Reaver in the side of the head and causing him to fall into the stormy waters.

“Let’s just keep moving!” she replied. 

It was hard to see anything through the dense rainfall, but the coast seemed clear enough so they moved forward, darting to the next lot of cover. They lost track of Neloth in the chaos of the fighting and the storm, but the occasional blast of magical energy followed by laughter that Valkari could only describe as maniacal told them that the mage was very much alive and well, and apparently enjoying himself which struck her as strange. And worrying.

They reached the far side of the ruins, drenched in icy rain water and shivering, but more alive than most of the Reavers. The last few had enough sense to flee, some going as far as to leap into the sea in an attempt to escape. Valkari didn’t wait to see if any survived being pulled under the water long enough to reach the shore, instead turning to the doors.

They were barred and with no sign of a lock to open them.

"Now that they’ve been taken care of, maybe now we can finally begin what we came here for." Neloth approached, completely dry and Valkari could swear she could see the rain sliding away before it even touched him.

“What?” he said reproachfully when he noticed her staring. “Do neither of you know a single warding spell?”

Of course.

“Does it matter? Now can you get this door open or not,” she said coldly, trying her best not to shiver. No sense in giving the lunatic any sort of satisfaction.

“Of course I can,” he huffed, stepping towards the doors and reaching into the pocket of his robes. "The Dwemer of Nchardak appear to have been fond of these control pedestals. Luckily I found a cube to operate it inside on my last visit. I sealed the door when I left to keep out ignorant meddlers."

He pulled out the aforementioned cube - made from the traditional dwemer brass with a glowing red core in the centre - and stepped towards the pedestal that stood to the side of the doors. He slotted the cube into place and it suddenly glowed blue, spinning left three times then right twice. There was a click and Neloth removed the cube as the bars slid down into the ground, leaving the way clear.

“The book is just inside,” said Neloth, gesturing to the door.

Valkari went first, steps slow and cautious. Inside was a large circular room, lined with brass pipes not unlike those she’d seen in the depths of Irkngthand all those years ago. And in the centre of the room was a circular glass pane with the Black Book just below, sitting on some sort of dais.

"You can see the book right there. So tantalizingly close…” said Neloth. He shook his head. “But trust me, no magic will open that. I'd have had the book already if I could. No, we'll have to do this the hard way. If we can restore the steam supply to this room, I'm certain I can open it. As you'll see, that's easier said than done. This way to the boilers."

He lead the way towards what Valkari immediately recognised as a lift. Teldryn flipped the switch and they began to descend. As they did so Teldryn placed a hand on Valkari’s shoulder and she felt a burst of warmth spread out over her body, warding off the worst of the chill.

“Better than being soaked,” he said shortly with a half shrug.

“True. Thanks.”

The lift came to a halt, opening up onto a half-collapsed hallway and Neloth took the lead.

"The last time I was here, I only explored a small part of the ruins. I was here alone then, and I find an assistant is absolutely essential for this kind of dirty, dangerous work."

Valkari and Teldryn exchanged a quick eye roll and shook their heads as they followed him through the ruined passages until they arrived in what had to be the centre of the city.

The cavernous hall was in ruins and half filled with seawater, but nonetheless the scale was enough to be impressive. Stone columns reinforced with metal bands held up the domed ceiling which was further reinforced with criss-crossed bands of dwemer brass. Pipes and vents and towers riddled the visible space, and there were still some walkways above the water.

"Nchardak, The 'City of a Hundred Towers'. In its day it was the largest of the great Dwemer Archives and perhaps the most advanced. In the old stories, when the Nords came to conquer it, it's said the Dwemer sumberged the entire city beneath the sea until the invaders gave up. I have my doubts. But the city was a marvel of Dwemer engineering. Now reduced to  _ this _ .”

Neloth continued further into the room.

"As you can see, most of the lower levels of the city are flooded. but it isn't hopeless - the old Dwemer pumps still seem to work,” he explained until they reached the edge of the platform, where another pedestal stood. “Watch."

He clicked the cube into place. It glowed blue and there was a great rumbling as the machinery suddenly came to life. Suddenly the water began to drop, revealing another platform below with four more pedestals, each set in front of a piece of dwemer machinery.

"Unfortunately the pumps only operate when a cube is in the pedestal, and I have only one cube. These four boilers provide steam to the room upstairs. They're shut down, but they still respond to the control cubes,” Neloth explained, turning to Valkari. “So, if we can find four more cubes, we can turn these boilers back on and restore steam power to the room upstairs. Then I should be able to open the book's protective case.” He turned away, hands folded behind his back. “Bring that cube. We'll need it."

Valkari glared at his retreating back, but did as he said and pulled the cube out of the pedestal. The rumbling returned and the water rose again. When she turned back to Neloth he was bent over some sort of panel.

"Yes... here we are.” He tapped the panel. “This device shows the location of four more cubes in this section of the city. It looks like most of the cubes were moved to the lower levels, perhaps to try to control the flooding before the city was abandoned.”

He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Interesting. That would suggest that the city must have originally sunk during the first cataclysm of Red Mountain. Or that the Dwemer's servitors continued to try to preserve the city after their creators' disappearance."

“There’ll be time for that later,” Valkari said coolly. “Let’s just go find these cubes and get the damned book already.”

“Ugh, fine.” She heard him mutter something rude under his breath as he straightened up and took the lead. “This way.”

[]

Valkari could hear the familiar sound of swinging blades and she turned back to Teldryn.

“Wait here. I’ll only be a second.”

"You're going ahead without me? Suit yourself," Teldryn said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “But don’t expect me to come save you if you decide to try and sass something into dying.”

“Don’t worry, I think I’ll save that for you,” she shot back, smirking before rounding the corner.

As expected, there were a pair of spinning blades up ahead, moving in opposite directions along the length of the room. Just beyond them was a gate with a control pedestal and just beyond it, another with a cube set in it.

Timing was everything. Too early, too late, or too slow and she would be cut cleanly in half. So she waited, watching the blades as they moved, figuring out the perfect moment to make a run for the gate. She narrowed her eyes and readied for the sprint.

She counted in her head.

One… two… three!

She ran and slammed the cube down into the pedestal and with a click the gate swung open. She tore the cube back out and darted inside, just out of the reach of the blades. As they reached the centre, however, they came to a quivering halt, turned once, then neatly folded in half, sinking into the ground.

“Shrike shit…” she breathed, shaking her head. “I’ve had enough of fucking dwemer ruins for one lifetime…”

With a heavy sigh, she pulled the cube out of the pedestal.

Immediately there was rumbling and the room began to quiver, and somewhere in the distance she could hear running water.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she groaned, then turned heel and ran. Teldryn was waiting where she’d left him, standing at alert.

“You got the cube?” he asked sharply. “Good. Let’s get out of here!”

They ran back through the hall towards the chamber where they’d left Neloth waiting, but as they turned the corner, the water was rapidly rising to meet them and Valkari froze. Her chest tightened and she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was watch the water creeping closer and closer towards her, ready to drag her down, to crush the air out of her lungs, to-

“VAL!”

She snapped back to her senses and realised Teldryn was shaking her by the shoulders. “We have to go now!”

The water was lapping over their boots and perhaps her fear was showing because he suddenly released her shoulders and gripped her hand in his.

“Together,” he said firmly. She managed a stiff nod and clenched his hand tightly in her own as they faced the water. “Ready… Now!”

They dove headfirst and Valkari’s vice grip on Teldryn’s hand only tightened as they swam through the flooded corridor. 

Truth be told it didn’t take long to reach the main chamber and resurface, but it was long enough to leave Valkari shivering from far more than just cold as they clambered up onto the platform that led back towards the ruin’s central chamber. In fact she could help but curl in on herself, taking deep shuddering breaths as she tried to steady herself.

She hated this feeling of weakness. Twenty years on and it still plagued her, leaving her feeling like nothing more than a helpless child all over again.

A weight settled around her shoulders and she felt a hand rest on her forearm. She looked up to see Teldryn there, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You okay, Val?” he asked, voice surprisingly soft.

“Yeah,” she managed after a brief moment of silence. “Yeah, I just need a minute…”

He squeezed her arm gently in reassurance and she could only feel grateful, which was honestly a rare feeling for her, but it was infinitely preferable to the trembling fear and sense of helplessness.

“This is all very touching,” Neloth sneered. “But I'm ready to see if we can actually open the book's protective case. You  _ do  _ still remember why we're here?"

Teldryn opened his mouth to retort, but Valkari shook her head and rose unsteadily to her feet.

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” she sighed. “Let’s just hurry up so we can get out of here.”

He seemed to contemplate ignoring her for a second, but nodded regardless and dropped his hands back to his sides, following as they made their way back into the central chamber.

Valkari removed one of the cubes powering the pumps in the hall and proceeded down to the boilers. She placed a cube in each pedestal, each boiler roaring into life as she did so, and there was the familiar rattling of steam moving through pipes, upwards and in the direction of the reading room.

"That seems to have done it. Good. It took longer than I'd hoped, but at least it's finally done," said Neloth. "We should head back upstairs and see if the reading room has steam. If so, it should be a simple matter to release the book."

[]

The pipes in the reading room were rattling with steam and Neloth swept over to a switch set into a brass pedestal. With a single push of the button, there was a shift as the glass case opened, the pane splitting perfectly down the centre and parting, allowing the stone dais to rise up, presenting the Black Book.

The three of them gathered around it, eying the book like it was some dangerous monster that could bite at any moment.

"At last. I hope it was worth it,” said Neloth. He then turned to Valkari and gestured to the book. “Please... be my guest. You deserve the first look.” 

“So you can observe what happens and take notes, right?” she replied bluntly.

“It could be very dangerous. These books are known to drive many people insane. Now please, go right ahead. I have plenty to occupy me for the moment."

Shooting him a pointed look, Valkari approached the dais and picked up the book.

Much like her encounter with the first Black Book, it gave her a deep seated feeling of unease just looking at it. She reasoned with herself that this time she knew what to expect. Another, wiser part of herself reminded her that an experience with one daedric relic might not be like another and so she really had no idea what would happen. 

She shut that part of herself up and carefully slid her fingers under the book.

Almost delicately she rested the back cover against her arm and flipped it open.

_ Epistolary Acumen _

_ By the Transparent one. _

_ Bring you forth the lovestruck mute who preys with vigor on his love, and set the sky alight with all who dare to struggle 'gainst our move. For we are they who own the night and all who dwell without us fall; we drink the mind-grapes formed of thought and wail a tumult on the wall. To sweep– _

Again there was a jerk in her navel and thick green tendrils crept from the pages, wrapping themselves around her arms and neck and tugging her headlong into the book.

[]

Valkari hit the ground hard and it took a moment for her to gather herself, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees before rising back to her feet. She dusted herself off and glanced around. 

She was back in Apocrypha, though clearly not in the same place she’d emerged last time. There was no sign of Miraak or the tower he’d stood before. Instead she stood at the centre of a large platform that looked as though it was wrought from ebony and before her stood a pedestal with a much larger version of the book she had found in Nchardak sitting innocently atop it.

She glanced around.

Overhead was an endless, revolting green sky and below was an endless sea of black. Spires and towers spanned the landscape in the distance, forming intricate structures that were strangely eerie.

She barely took a step forwards when she felt a familiar presence circling her, watching her, practically crawling down her spine.

"I know you, champion. The Oghma Infinium was only the beginning," purred an all too familiar voice, though its owner had yet to appear. 

“Mora,” she said curtly. “What do you want?”

“What do  _ I _ want?” he echoed with a sort of feigned innocence, if a Daedric Prince could be capable of such a thing. 

He began to slither into view, black slits appearing in the air around her, opening to reveal bulbous green eyes followed by writhing black tentacles, and a penetrating aura radiated off of him. Even now she could feel it. He was far stronger here than he had been back in Tamriel.

“You have entered  _ my _ domain, Dragonborn. Or is it Valkari? It is so very difficult to keep track of your many names these days.”

“Dragonborn will do,” was her reply.

Mora simply chuckled.

"Such a fickle creature you are, Dragonborn. You thought to reject me, and yet here you are. Your journey towards enlightenment has finally led you here, to my realm, as I knew it would."

“What do you want now?”

"You have entered my realm. You have sought out the forbidden knowledge that only one other has obtained. You are Dragonborn, like Miraak before you. A seeker of knowledge and power."

“I prefer money to be perfectly honest,” she said tersely. “I’m here because I need to defeat Miraak so I can get back to obtaining just that.”

"You will serve me, willing or not, Dragonborn. All who seek after the secrets of the world are my servants.

"I know what you want: to use you power as Dragonborn to bend the world to your will. You have learned two of the Words you will need, but this is not enough. Miraak knows the final Word of Power. Without that, you cannot hope to surpass him. Miraak served me well, and he was rewarded. I can grant you the same power as he wields, but all knowledge has its price."

Valkari narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Isn’t Miraak already your champion? Why help me? What do you get out of this?”

"He has served me long and well. But he grows restless under my guidance,” Mora sighed. “His desire to return to your world will spread my influence more widely. But it will also set him free from my direct control. It may be time to replace him with a more loyal servant. One who still appreciates the gifts I have to offer."

“And you think I would be that servant?” she snorted. “And here you’re supposed to be one of the smart Daedric Princes.”

Mora just laughed.

“Oh Dragonborn, if only you could see the things I have seen,” he said. “Every mortal has their weaknesses. Weaknesses that can break even the proudest of your kind. I would know, as I have broken them all.”

She glowered at him a moment longer then sighed.

“What do you want?”

"Knowledge for knowledge. The Skaal have withheld their secrets from me for many long years. The time has come for this knowledge to be added to my library."

“And if the Skaal aren’t willing to just hand over their secrets to you?”

"My servant Miraak would have found a way to bring me what I want. So will you if you wish to surpass him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all of your support on this fic, it's what keeps me coming back to do updates :D thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, it means so much to me!!! <3


	13. Little Talks

“...l… al… Val!”

Valkari opened her eyes and immediately shut them again, grimacing as the light stung her eyes. She heard a sigh of relief somewhere to her right and became very aware that she was lying flat on her back, still clutching the Black Book so tightly her fingers were aching. She opened her eyes a crack, squinting around as she readjusted to the light.

She was lying on the floor of the reading room and Teldryn was kneeling beside her, pale with worry and it was impossible to miss the rush of relief crossing his face.

Ever so slowly Valkari shut the book and set it down to one side before trying to sit up. As though acting on instinct, Teldryn placed a hand to the small of her back and eased her into a sitting position.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah…” she murmured. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Why you’d ever willingly do that, I don’t know.”

She shook her head, drawing a deep breath.

How long had she been gone, she wondered. Clearly longer than she’d realised. But it was clear that there were other concerns when Neloth swept into view, bent down and took her chin in his fingers, jerking her head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were piercing, sweeping over her with fascination.

"Well what happened? What did you see? Different people have very different experiences when reading these books," he said sharply and it took her a moment to process what he had said.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she grumbled, jerking away. “I spoke with Hermaeus Mora.”

"You're still acting surprisingly sane, too,” he remarked, straightening up and stroking his beard thoughtfully. “What did he have to say? He must have wanted something from you."

“He wants the secrets of the Skaal. If I get them for him, he’ll teach me the final Word of Power I need to defeat Miraak.”

"Hmph. What secrets could they have worth keeping from old Mora? Sounds like a bargain to me. Hermaeus Mora learns some fascinating new ways to skin a horker and you become the second most powerful Dragonborn that ever lived,” he snorted. “Well that gives me a lot to think about. I need to get back to Tel Mithryn. I have some ideas about how to locate more of these Black Books..."

Valkari picked the book up off of the floor and held it out.

“You might as well keep this one,” she said dryly. “I won’t need it anymore.”

He took it all too gladly and stuffed it into his robes before striding out, muttering under his breath.

When Teldryn looked at her inquisitively, she just shrugged and said, “if we’re lucky, it’ll drag him into Apocrypha and we’ll never have to deal with him again.”

“If only…” he paused a moment, watching her closely. “Are you sure you’re okay, Val?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “It’s not the first time I’ve ended up… well, somewhere else.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You really are a nord. And a crazy one at that.”

“Well considering that nords are crazy by default, I wonder what that says about me.”

Slowly she got to her feet, Teldryn keeping his hand against her back and levering her up by her arm. Her head spun a little at first before she found her balance.

“So I guess we’re headed for the Skaal village next-”

She was cut dead by the familiar sound of beating wings and the great rushing of wind from outside. Without pausing for thought, she ran for the doors, Teldryn following behind.

The storm had subsided whilst they were inside, the sky a light grey and yet the water was churning violently as a dragon hovered just overhead. It was heavily built, with thick bronze scales and a heavy, club-like tail, and a huge square head supported by a stocky neck. A dragon built for strength rather than speed, and Valkari was certain she’d never seen this individual before.

“By Malacath's toenails, where did that come from?" barked Neloth who was standing close to the platform’s edge, hands sparking with magicka. But the dragon paid him no mind, instead focusing its yellow eyes firmly on Valkari.

“ _Dragonborn,_ ” it growled. “ _Miraak commanded that I find you. And here you are._ ”

“ _You serve Miraak?_ ” she asked, frowning.

“ _Yes. I am Krosulhah. My lord demanded that I bring to you a message._ ”

For a fleeting moment she could just imagine Knight and the rest of his murder harassing the dragon and bringing the message themselves, and she couldn’t resist a smirk of amusement.

“ _Well here I am, like you said. What does Miraak want?_ ”

“ _He requests a meeting. Use your Black Book, the one you found in his temple, and come to his tower. He wishes to speak with you in person._ ”

“ _He wants to speak? Or he’s trying to lure me into a trap?_ ”

“ _It is not my place to sway your judgement, Dragonborn. I am to convey my lord’s wishes and nothing more. The choice to fulfill that wish is your’s and your’s alone,_ ” Krosulhah said simply.

“ _Fair enough. Now is there anything else, or are we done here?_ ”

“ _I will say only this, Dragonborn, if only out of respect for the one who felled Alduin. Miraak is not your true enemy. If you are wise enough to see this, you will do as my lord wishes. His love for Herma Mora is no greater than your own._ ”

“ _Duly noted._ ”

Krosulhah bowed his head and, with a great flap of his wings, soared upwards into the sky.

“Well, what did it say?” Neloth demanded, once again looking at Valkari like she was a very fascinating specimen.

“Nothing that concerns you, I’m sure,” she shot back flatly, moving to head back in the direction of the shore. “Come on, let’s-”

She spotted the Reaver too late. One of the survivors from before, bow nocked and aiming straight for her. She didn’t even get the opportunity to reach for her bow when she found herself being thrown to the ground as Teldryn shoved her out of the arrow’s path and she skidded across the wet stone floor, nearly falling over the edge of the platform. She clung to the edge, the water calmly lapping against the wall below her.

Somewhere above her she could hear the crackling of electricity followed by agonised screaming. Neloth had killed the Reaver then.

She hauled herself back up, heart thumping painfully in her chest as she looked over to Teldryn. He was lying on the ground with his back to her, and he wasn’t moving.

“Fuck!” She ran to his side, rolling him onto his back.

He was staring up at her, gasping wetly with blood at the corner of his mouth, the arrow stuck deep into the right side of his chest.

“Hold on,” she said hurriedly, surprising herself with the tinge of desperation as she grabbed the arrow. “Just try not to move. Hold still.”

She tried to pry the arrow free, but it was stuck deep and she was hesitant to pull too hard for fear of the head breaking off. No doubt it had punctured a lung, but already the skin surrounding the wound had started to blacken.

Poison.

“Shit,” she hissed.

She let go of the arrow, mind racing, before she turned to Neloth who was still standing there watching with a look of mild disinterest.

“Well don’t just stand there, help me!” she spat.

“Oh fine,” he huffed, striding over and grabbing Teldryn’s arm. Together they hoisted him up. “We’ll need to take him to Tel Mithryn. Talvas and Elynea won’t be too busy to tend his wounds. Provided he doesn’t die on the way back.”

Valkari glared at him. She’d serve Hermaeus Mora before she let that happen.

[]

Teldryn’s condition had only worsened on the trip back and he practically keeled over several times. The colour was gone from his face and he was barely conscious, his eyes struggling to remain focused and his chest heaving painfully, trying to drag in as much air as possible.

It had been painful to see him that way, so Valkari waited outside the tower whilst Elynea and Talvas worked to treat him. She sat on top of one of the mushrooms dotting the courtyard, her stomach in knots.

Stupid mer, she’d gone through how much trouble to keep him from getting killed by Sigrun and then he went and nearly got himself killed protecting her.

Just sitting there and doing nothing but worry was driving her crazy. It was enough time to consider what Krosulhah had told her.

Miraak wanted a meeting. A chance to speak, supposedly in peace and not as enemies. More likely he just wanted to finish her off once and for all before she had the chance to fulfill her end of her bargain with Mora. The bargain she supposedly needed to uphold to have a hope of defeating Miraak who could apparently destroy her with ease.

She did have to wonder how true that was. If Miraak really was as powerful as the Daedric Prince claimed, or if he was just manipulating her into his service with this deal. It would be very in character for him.

But then if one knew about a trap, then surely it was possible to disarm it. And fighting for her life would be a good distraction from fretting over Teldryn’s fate.

So she pulled out her copy of Waking Dreams and flipped it open.

_The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming question, as only the True Enquiry shapes the edge of thought. The rest is vulgar fiction, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhead._

Sure enough she was dragged head first into the book as before, and found herself standing at the foot of the great black tower where she had first met Miraak. The gate at the foot of the tower swung open and permitted her access, and in spite of her better judgement, she began to climb.

Apocrypha was stranger than anything Valkari could have managed, even with her brief glances into the realm. There were no bookshelves as one might expect, but rather the books were set into the walls themselves, with more scattered around the floor and sorted into haphazard piles. It was impossible to tell exactly how many there were, but every book bore a different title, a different cover, a different author. In fact it seemed there were no second copies of any single book.

The tower was crawling with more of the daedra that had accompanied Miraak last time, though this time they paid her no mind, sweeping silently amongst the book-encrusted walls, making their strange guttural sounds as they did so.

Every now and then she came across pools of black fluid, too thick to be water, too runny to be tar. She learned the hard way not to get too close to these pools if she could help it, as long black tendrils shot out at her as she passed, trying to grab at her arms, her legs, whatever part of her they could reach to try and drag her in.

All in all, she was far too relieved to reach the top of the tower. A narrow winding staircase led to a heavy black door with the Akaviri symbol for Dragonborn, and Valkari just rolled her eyes.

Someone took a lot of pride in their status it seemed.

She pushed the door open and for a moment she wondered if she was still in Apocrypha or if she had crossed into another realm altogether.

The circular room resembled a resplendent study lit by candles and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, and each was packed to bursting with books. Off to the left side of the room was a second space, also circular, with a large four poster bed lined with furs, and beside it was a glass display cabinet.

As if by instinct she approached the cabinet.

Inside was an assortment of jewelry pieces fashioned from priceless gems and dragon bones. Earrings, bracelets, rings, and a necklace crafted from a singular dragon’s tooth encrusted with rubies, and she felt the urge to pull out her lockpicks.

“And here you are, just as I asked. How very kind of you. I'm glad you're here.”

She spun on her heel to see Miraak standing there, hands folded behind his back and unmasked. He was a nord with dull grey hair, though he didn’t look like he could be much older than forty despite the fact he’d been alive for thousands of years. One eye was scarred and blinded, and the other was focused on her with a degree of curiosity.

She put away her desire for the jewels and stepped away from the cabinet, daring to draw closer so she wasn’t so easy to corner. Miraak didn’t move, still watching her carefully.

“If you’re going to try and kill me, you might as well get it over with so I can kick your arse already.”

“If I asked you here to try and kill you, I would have done it whilst you were… admiring my possessions.” A fair point. “I simply wish to speak.”

“A chance to know your foe before you kill them.”

“I suppose.” He shrugged, stepping closer. “The truth is that I find myself… curious. For all my years, I’ve never met a fellow Dragonborn. Someone who understands what it is to be both mortal and dragon in one being. Quite a singular experience, wouldn’t you agree?”

She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest.

“I presume you've already seen some of what I've accomplished on Solstheim,” he went on. “The plans I have in motion. The plans you have been determined to dismantle.”

“Like enslaving people? Yeah, I’ve seen,” she scoffed. “Look if this is some attempt to get me to help you, then you’re wasting your breath and my time.”

He gave her a long look.

“I am afraid it is not that simple.”

He turned his gaze.

“For years I fought desperately to escape the plans others had for me. The dragons, Hakon and his companions, the Grey Beards… I was nothing to them but a pawn, a tool, a thing to be used and thrown away when I was no longer needed.”

That sounded familiar.

“I sought ways to escape my fate and in the end it led me here. Now I am but the pawn of Hermaeus Mora. And that is something I wish to change.”

“Well maybe if you have just killed Alduin and saved the rest of us the trouble, neither of us would be here right now, would we?” she retorted, glaring at him.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He shrugged. “Regardless of what I did or did not do, I will not be a slave to the fate another has decided for me. I will forge my own, at any cost. It is in our nature, after all.”

He turned his gaze back to Valkari.

“As the dragons do, those of the Dragon’s blood crave control in many different forms. You need only look to the Septim Dynasty to see that,” he said. “But of course, those cravings can come in many different forms. Control over one’s self, control over others. Such concepts can be far more subtle than you know. But of course, I’m sure you understand all of this well enough already.”

It was her turn to avert her gaze.

“I do.”

“Then you understand why I act as I do,” he said, stepping towards her again. “I will do whatever I feel I must to secure my freedom. To escape Hermaeus Mora’s grip, and to return to Tamriel. To take back the life that was stolen from me all those years ago.”

“And you think I need to die so you can do that.”

“...Yes. Yes, I believe so. Your soul is powerful, as are the collective souls of the dragons you have slain. With your power, I could finally break the chains binding me to this realm. Binding me to Hermaeus Mora.”

He lifted a hand to her face, tilting her head back to lock his eyes with her’s and she became acutely aware he was backing her towards the bed.

“But that does not mean I take any pleasure in ending your life. To seeing your spark fade from the world. If I were to have my way, I would-”

He came to a halt when she flashed the dragonbone dagger in her hand and held it against his leg.

“Touch me and I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you,” she snarled.

Ever so slowly he lowered his hand and stepped away, his expression blank and unreadable.

“I understand. And I apologise if my advances are unwanted.”

“I would have thought the dagger would have made that _very_ clear,” she said bluntly. “Now, if the only reason you brought me here if because you haven’t been able to fuck anything other than yourself or those things downstairs, then I’ll be leaving.”

She marched past him in the direction of the door. She could have, of course, used the book there and then but her blood was running hot with indignant fury and she had no wish to remain in the same room as him for a moment longer.

“There is one more thing, Dragonborn.” She paused, one foot out the door. “Even if you succeed in defeating me, Hermaeus Mora will betray you as he has me.”

[]

Valkari jerked back into consciousness and Waking Dreams slipped from her fingertips. She cursed and lunged to catch it, but it toppled off over the edge of the mushroom, landing in the ash below.

She jumped down after it, kicking up a cloud of dust as she did so. As she picked up the book and dusted it off, her anger caught up with her.

Miraak… That bastard had the nerve to try and get her into bed despite making it very clear that he wanted her dead. She muttered obscenities under her breath, and wondered if perhaps she should have followed up on her threat regardless.

She’d known since she was quite young that she wanted nothing to do with sex in the slightest. Not with anyone, under any circumstances. Sexual attraction was an alien concept to her, and just the thought of having sex with another person made her sick to her stomach. Even now she could barely understand why anyone would find it so desirable.

Had Talvas not come hurrying out of the tower, she would have considered going to find something she could kill to make herself feel better.

“Your friend!” Talvas panted. “He’s woken up…! He asked for you-”

She didn’t wait to hear whatever else he had to say, instead just making a beeline for the Apothecary’s Tower.

Elynea was working at her alchemy table, mixing together various herbs when Valkari entered.

“It was a close call,” she said grimly. “The poison was potent and it’s wreaked havoc on his body. A few minutes longer without treatment and the damage would have been irreversible. Luckily for him, you and Master Neloth got him to me in time.”

She beckoned Valkari to follow.

“He’s going to need time to recover. A few days at least. It could be even longer before he’s ready to go off adventuring.”

She said that very firmly, but she needn’t have. Valkari knew that there were some things that needed time to heal before jumping back into danger. Back then she didn’t have a huge amount of choice, considering that the fate of the guild was at stake, but even so she was given time for her injuries to heal.

Teldryn was laid out on a cot in a small room near the back of the tower. He’d been stripped of his armour and had a blanket draped over him, and a wet cloth had been pressed against his forehead. His eyes were currently closed and he was drenched in sweat, but his chest was rising and falling steadily and his skin was no longer a deathly ashen grey. It was a massive improvement over when they’d first brought him back to Tel Mithryn.

“He was a bit delirious when he woke up, so he might not be completely coherent. He was very clear when he asked for you though,” said Elynea. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

Valkari sat on the edge of the cot.

“Tel?” she said gently. “You awake?”

“Hm…” He turned his head in her direction and managed to open his eyes a crack. He stared at her blearily. “Val…? Tha’ you…?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” she said. “How you feeling?”

“...bad… really bad,” he muttered. “But you’re here… not so bad now…”

He groped blindly for her hand and she took his gently, running her thumb over the back of his and he relaxed, staring up at her.

“Why did you do that? Back at Nchardak.”

“...do what..?”

“Take that arrow for me, you idiot,” she said, frowning at him. “You _do_ remember what happened, don’t you?”

His brow furrowed in concentration for a moment, then he said, “oh… yeah I remember…”

“Good. So why did you do it?”

“Couldn’t let it hit you…”

“But why?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead he lifted his free hand to her face and cupped her cheek gently, running his thumb along her cheekbone.

“Because I love you,” he murmured. “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt… Figured if I died, it’d be better than you dying…”

His words were beginning to slur now and his eyes were beginning to slide close again. In fact only when he fell asleep and went limp did Valkari even really process what the hell she’d just heard.

He’d risked his life to save her’s, was ready to die there and then… because he _loved_ her. Because he thought her life was more valuable than his. Her heart felt like it might stop again if she thought about it too hard.

Ordinarily she would have suspected that he was up to something, that he wanted something from her, and speaking plainly that something was usually sex when it came to the men who found her attractive. But the way he had looked at her, delirious as he was, was something different. It was… something she’d not seen in a very long time. Not since she was a young woman running around Riften’s rooftops.

Her insides felt fuzzy and her mind was racing and gods was she actually blushing? It wasn’t something she was used to dealing with. And it begged the question: did she love him back?

She shook her head. She didn’t have time to think about things like that. She needed to focus. The final Word of Power. The only way to get it was by getting the Skaal to agree to give Hermaeus Mora their secrets, whatever they happened to be.

This was going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...okay so I might have been dying to write this particular chapter for particular reasons... my inner-shipper is showing XD  
>  we're definitely nearing the end now, thank you guys so much for your support and for being so patient with me! Love you guys <3


	14. At the Summit of Apocrypha

Teldryn didn’t wake up again before Valkari left for the Skaal Village the following morning, which she decided was for the best. He might try to follow if he was conscious and she didn’t need that weighing on her conscience right now. Right now she had bigger things to worry about.

Storn was waiting on the bench outside his hut when she arrived and he looked graver than ever. Frea stood at his shoulder, hands folded behind her back and looked for all the world like she could have been carved from stone.

“Dragonborn,” Storn greeted. “I received your message, and I have made my decision.”

“I hope it’s the right one,” said Valkari. “This might be our only hope of stopping Miraak.”

"I understand. And so it falls to me to be the one to give up the secrets to our ancient enemy. I do not know if I have the strength to face him. The Tree Stone is still corrupted... the land is still out of balance. But with the other five restored... it may be enough.” He heaved a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground. “It will have to do."

“So you’ll do it?”

"Yes. The Skaal also tell of the day when we must finally give up our secrets. When Herma-Mora finally wins. As shaman, it is my duty to guard these secrets, but also to decide when it is necessary to give them up. I believe that time is now. If I am wrong, may my ancestors forgive me.” 

He rose to his feet slowly and beckoned to Valkari.

“Give me the book. I will read it, and speak to old Herma-Mora myself. I will make sure he lives up to his part of the bargain."

She reached into her pack and pulled out Waking Dreams.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

"That is my hope as well. I am trusting you will make this sacrifice worthwhile."

Reluctantly, Storn took the book and tucked it under his arm. He then trudged towards the centre of the village and, as if unable to remain passive any longer, Frea leapt to life.

"Father, please! You must not do this! That book is... wrong. Evil. Against everything that you have taught me my whole life!" she cried, glowering at it.

"I must, Frea. It is the only way to free Solstheim forever from Miraak's shadow.” 

“But-!”

Storn stopped and placed a hand to the crook of Frea’s arm, too bowed by age to reach her shoulder, and he gave her a firm but caring look.

“There comes a time when everything must change. Nothing that lives remains the same forever. Do not fear for me, my daughter. This is the destiny that the All-Maker has laid out for me."

Frea hesitated, looking as though she wanted to argue further, but then simply bowed her head.

“I stand beside you father… As always,” she murmured bitterly.

Storn nodded and turned away, standing in the same spot where he and his fellow Skaal had once cast their protective barrier.

"I am ready for whatever the foul master of this book has in store for me," he said firmly, scowling at the book. He fumbled for a moment, then peeled the book open.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, nothing like what Valkari had experienced ever. Then it happened all at once.

Tentacles erupted from the book, wrapping their way around Storn’s torso, arms and legs. He let go of the book in his shock, but it was suspended in the air, the tentacles holding him aloft. Then another tentacle shot out from the heart of the pages and gouged itself right through Storn’s skull.

Screaming erupted around the village as the Skaal panicked and Hermaeus Mora materialised in the air above Storn.

"At last, the Skaal yield up their secrets to me!” he gloated, seeming all too delighted.

“Father, no!”

Valkari grabbed Frea’s arm, catching her before she could run at Mora.

“Stay back!”

“He’s killing him!”

Blood spurted from Storn’s lips and pooled at the corners of his eyes. It leaked from his nose and ears, and he spoke thickly, “You... liar... gah! ... I won't... not... for you..."

“Oh, but I think I will,” Mora purred before turned his bulbous eyes to Valkari.

"Dragonborn, you have delivered me the gift I requested. In return, I keep my promise, as befits a Prince of Oblivion: I give you the Word of Power that you need to challenge Miraak.” 

A long black tentacle slithered forwards and wrapped itself around her wrist and Valkari could  _ feel _ the Word being burned into her mind.  _ Diiv _ . Wyrm.

“Use my gift well, Dragonborn. You will be either a worthy opponent or his successor, as the tides of fate decree."

If a mass of eyes and tentacles could look smug, then Hermaeus Mora knew exactly how to before he slithered back into nothing. The tentacles holding Storn retreated into the pages of Waking Dreams, and they both fell to the ground, the book looking all too innocent next to Storn’s crumpled form.

"Father!” Frea tore herself away from Valkari and ran towards Storn, skidding to her knees beside him, rolling him onto his back. His eyes had rolled back and there was a gaping hole in the centre of his forehead.

Valkari’s chest felt tight. She’d seen people die before, she knew what suffering looked like, but nothing like that. Nothing like that at all.

The Skaal were beginning to approach, all staring at Storn’s lifeless body in abject horror and whispering among themselves as Frea sobbed, clutching at her father as though hoping if she held him long enough it might bring him back.

“Frea…” Valkari said slowly, and the Skaal warrior’s blood-shot eyes snapped up to her. They were brimming with more than just grief. There was anguish, and there was hatred.

“What have you done!" she shrieked, glaring at Valkari.

“Frea, I-”

“Go,” Frea snapped hoarsely, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Kill Miraak.  _ Never _ return.”

She felt the glares and angry stares on all sides, so Valkari did as she was told, picked up Waking Dreams, and made her way out of the village with the cursed thing tucked under her arm.

It was only when she was a decent distance from the village did she open the book and allow herself to be dragged into Apocrypha once more.

[]

This time Valkari had to fight her way through Apocrypha’s winding halls and nightmarish monstrosities. Hermaeus Mora clearly delighted in twisting his realm into a labyrinth of incomprehensible passages and intricate puzzles meant to test those seeking his knowledge. 

Lurkers and Seekers patrolled the halls, making their guttural rasping noises as she passed by invisibly under the cover of her Shadowcloak.

She had no way of knowing how long it took - Oblivion did not share Nirn’s concept of time - but eventually she found her way to a plateau where a dragon was waiting for her.

It was unlike any dragon she had ever seen. Its scales were sleek and smooth, like that of a snake’s, and its head was tapered. It’s lower jaw jutted forwards in an underbite and its mouth was filled with long, razor-like teeth.

“ _ Dragonborn, you have arrived, _ ” he uttered. “ _ I am Sahrotaar. Come, and I will take you to Miraak. _ ”

He lowered his neck, prompting her to climb aboard, and she did so. No doubt Miraak wanted her to arrive sooner rather than later to settle matters once and for all.

“ _ Tell me, _ ” she said, “ _ why do you serve Miraak? _ ”

“ _ I have no choice, Dragonborn. He bends me to his will, as he has bent the will of others in his desperate bid for freedom. _ ”

“ _ You almost sound like you pity him. _ ”

“ _ Miraak desires freedom. Freedom from Herma Mora, freedom from the Grey Beards, freedom from fate itself, _ ” Sahrotaar explained. “ _ It is a worthy goal, albeit a futile one. But he is not the one you should fear, Dragonborn. _ ”

“ _ As I’ve been told many times, _ ” she sighed. “ _ And I’m betting that old Mora won’t just let me leave if I kill Miraak? _ ”

“ _ He will not. He will keep you here and he will break you, as he has broken all of those he desires. _ ”

“ _ And if Miraak kills me, Mora will still have a way to keep him here too. _ ”

“ _ Yes. This Miraak does not understand. He believes that by killing you, he will have the power to escape Herma Mora. But when you die, you will go elsewhere. To one of your worlds after death. And when you do, you will take some of that power with you. Miraak will not have access to your full power and he will fail.  _

_ “The same is true if you kill Miraak. A portion of him will go elsewhere, likely to Herma Mora himself, and when it does, your power will not be sufficient. _ ”

Valkari frowned, turning it all over in her mind. Killing Miraak meant likely being trapped in Apocrypha forever. Being killed by Miraak meant the reverse was true. Either way it was a bleak prospect for them both.

“ _ And if neither of us killed the other? Worked together against Mora? _ ”

Sahrotaar snorted.

“ _ If you could successfully convince Miraak to bend his pride long enough to do so, you might stand a chance, Dragonborn. _ ” He twisted to soar to the right. “ _ We are almost there, Dragonborn. _ ”

Up ahead was a massive spire that dominated the landscape, towering against the sickly green sky. Sahrotaar began to ascend, climbing higher into the air until they were circling the plateau at the top of the tower. Waiting there were two other dragons, perched atop archways, and standing beside the pool in the centre was Miraak, garbed in his dark robes and donning his mask once again.

He watched as they came into land and he kept his gaze firmly on Valkari as she approached.

“And so the First Dragonborn meets the Last Dragonborn at the summit of Apocrypha. No doubt just as Hermaeus Mora intended. He is a fickle master, you know. But now I will be free of him. My time in Apocrypha is over. You are here in your full power, and thus subject to my full power. You will die. And with the power of your soul, I will return to Solstheim and be master of my own fate once again."

“You really think Mora will make escaping that easy for you?” said Valkari. “He’s probably laughing at us right now.”

“True,” he conceded. “But if we do not try, we will never know if we are capable. And I must be. It is the only way.”

“No, you want to believe it’s the only way,” she retorted. “There are always other options, you’re just too proud to see it.”

He shook his head.

“It is never that simple, Dragonborn-”

“Valkari.” He paused. “My name isn’t Dragonborn. It’s Valkari.”

“Valkari. Chooser of the Slain,” he mused. “It is a good name. But now the time for talking is done.”

He lifted his hands and removed his mask, revealing his scarred face once more, his hood falling back.

“MUL QAH DIIV!”

Like the first time they had met, jagged green horns sprouted from either side of his head, and wings unfurled from his back. Rows of scales burst free of the skin of his forearms and around his eyes, and his teeth became jagged like that of a dragon’s.

But it wasn’t his trick alone.

“MUL QAH DIIV!”

An indescribable pain coursed through her and she fell to her knees. She felt like she was on fire, and her skull felt like it might explode as curving red horns pushed their way out from her temples and her jaw realigned itself. Her fingernails thickened and curved into claws, and golden scales pushed out from her skin. Unlike Miraak however she lacked wings, and the scales on her face and arms seemed fewer in comparison for some reason.

She staggered back to her feet, the pain subsiding as she did so and Miraak was eying her with admiration.

“So you have learned Dragon Aspect. Now we shall see if you can master it.”

He lunged, claws flashing and she barely darted out of his path in time, but he thrusted at her with one of his wings, throwing her across the plateau. She scrambled back to her feet and Shouted, “YOL TOOR SHUL!”

Dragon fire erupted from her lips, more powerful than before, and washed over him. She darted forwards and slashed at him with her claws, catching his upper arm before dodging out of reach again, this time being careful to avoid his wings. It was the advantage to being smaller than he was. It meant she was faster.

He threw a fireball and all it did was glance off of her scales harmlessly. She smirked.

Snarling, Miraak took to the skies with a flap of his wings, soaring upwards.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!” Valkari Shouted.

The pain that surged through her was somehow worse than ever and she nearly collapsed herself as the web of blue energy ensnared Miraak. To her good fortune it seemed to work on Dragonborn as well as it did on dragons, as he fell, crashing to the ground.

Valkari found her feet before he did, the blue webbing keeping him pinned to the ground.

“FUS RO DAH!”

He was flung further back across the plateau as he struggled against his bonds. As he did, he raised a hand in the direction of one of the dragons perched nearby.

“RII VAAZ!”

The dragon roared, screaming as though it was dying, and to Valkari’s horror she realised it was. Its scales were burning away, its flesh sloughing from its bones as Miraak devoured its soul. Its lifeless skeleton collapsed backwards, falling out of view over the edge of the plateau.

Her eyes snapped back to Miraak. The blue webbing faded and he rose to his feet.

“I know things that the Grey Beards would never teach you!” he snarled, more scales beginning to pierce through his skin and was it just her, or had the pupil of his intact eye become a reptilian slit? In the space of just a few seconds he looked more draconic than ever.

Valkari cloaked herself, vanishing from view.

“Hiding is beneath you, Dragonborn!” he roared. “VOKUN GEIN SIIV!”

The Shadowcloak fell away and Miraak fixed his eyes on her. Bright green sparks flew from his fingertips and struck Valkari hard, and unlike the flames, her scales did little to deflect it. She screamed, writhing painfully on the ground as the lightning coursed through her, and all the while Miraak approached menacingly.

He grabbed her by the collar of her armour and lifted her off of the ground.

“I regret that it must end this way, Dragonborn,” he said morosely. “I truly do. You have fought valiantly against fate, but it was not enough.”

“Get fucked,” she spat and she slashed him across the face. The scarring on the damaged side of his face split open and he yelled. Blood spurted from the wound and stained his now exposed teeth crimson.

Stunned, he was unable to prevent her from grabbing his robes and smashing her forehead against his. He staggered and his grip on her went slack. With a solid kick in his ribs, she tore herself free and tumbled across the ground.

Clutching his face in one hand, he lifted the other in the direction of the second dragon.

“RII VAAZ!”

The dragon went the same way as the first, writhing and roaring as its soul was devoured and its body burned away. And just like last time, Miraak became only more monstrous, his teeth pointing into rows of serrated fangs, scales growing thicker and now crawling up either side of his throat and his nostrils were thinning into snake-like slits.

“Miraak, you have to stop!” Valkari yelled, leaping to her feet.

He roared, completely beyond reason, and threw himself at her. She felt the ground fall away from her feet as they took off into the sky. Higher and higher they climbed, Valkari biting and clawing at him desperately, until the plateau was a pinprick below them.

She bodily forced herself away from him, claws digging into his shoulders.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!” 

The blue webbing wrapped itself around Miraak, and Valkari kicked off hard from his chest, sending him spiraling to the earth below her. She was in agony, like her very soul was on fire, but she still managed to Shout over the rushing of the wind, “FEIM ZII GRON!”

Suddenly she felt weightless, lighter than air itself. She looked down at herself just in time to see the scales on her arms receding and she felt her horns retracting too. Dragon Aspect was wearing off. She was ghostly and translucent and she floated gracefully back to the ground whereas Miraak crashed in a heap of crumpled wings.

Her feet touched the ground just to see him raising a hand at Sahrotaar.

“Miraak, no!”

She ran forwards, the effects of Become Ethereal dissipating, and she pinned him to the ground. He struggled, but his strength was waning and he wasn’t able to push her away. An agonised groan escaped him as his own horns and scales began to recede, and he writhed beneath her, all but sobbing pathetically.

As she watched, she wondered if the difference was the number of dragon souls consumed. The more dragons slain, the more like them one became and the easier it was to become like them. But it meant the transition back to human form was far more difficult.

It felt as though the minutes dragged by painfully slowly until Miraak stilled, his chest heaving. He was caked in his own blood, half his face still torn open, and he had barely enough strength with which to stand.

“You… are stronger than I believed…” he murmured. “Stronger than I believed possible…”

“I was taught how to fight dirty since before I could talk,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I guess I wanted it more.”

“Hm…”

A long silence passed before Miraak spoke again.

“What are you waiting for? End this. You have won, yes? Take your prize.”

Valkari regarded him curiously for a moment. Part of her very much wanted to kill him. Get that little bit of payback for their last encounter, and for the people he had hurt. But then he had immediately backed off when she objected. He could have forced himself on her if he had really wanted to, he was bigger than her and had been undoubtedly stronger. And in the end, he had just wanted his freedom, which she could hardly fault him for. 

‘And killing him would be doing exactly what Hermaeus Mora want,’ a little voice in her head piped up.

Well, then there was only one thing to do.

“My name. Do you remember what it means?”

“Chooser… of the Slain.”

“Right. I get to choose who I kill and who I don’t,” she said. “So I’m choosing not to kill you.”

Miraak shook his head.

“You have to. Even now Hermaeus Mora traps us here… Only the victor may leave...”

“That’s what he wants us to believe,” she shot back. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I really hate giving that bastard what he wants. Besides, both of us together? I think that’d be enough power to get us out of here. But only if we work together.”

“You truly believe that?”

“I could kill you and leave you Mora’s prisoner for all eternity if you like. Or we take a chance and maybe we both get to go free.” She reached into her pack and pulled out a healing potion. “Now shut the fuck up and drink this, moron.”

She lifted the bottle to his lips and he did as he was told. With some help from Valkari, he got to his feet and he eyed her curiously.

“You are an oddity, even for a Dragonborn,” he remarked.

“I could still kill you if you prefer,” she said dryly. “Now, I take it you know if there’s a way out of here?”

“Yes.” He led the way to the pool at the centre of the plateau. “The copy of Waking Dreams that we need to escape lies in there. With our power combined, we could force the way to open and-”

“ **DID YOU THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE ME SO EASILY? YOU CAN HIDE** **_NOTHING_ ** **FROM ME HERE!** ”

Eyes opened all around them, accompanied by flailing tentacles and a thick black miasma rolled in as Hermaeus Mora materialised. And for the first time, he looked furious. In fact his unbridled rage seemed to permeate from his being and Valkari felt some degree of fear at the sight of him. Even Sahrotaar slinked down from his arch, a hiss rumbling in his throat.

“If I keep him busy, can you get the way open?” Valkari hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

“Perhaps. It will take longer without your direct aid, but I believe I can do it,” he whispered.

“I’ll keep him talking. Just get us out of here.”

“And you, Valkari,” Mora hissed mockingly. “I believe we had a deal.”

“Which was concluded back when you sucked the life out of Storn, Mora!” she snapped back as Miraak worked, hands glowing with magicka.

“Oh, how naive you are. Miraak too harboured fantasies of rebellion against me. When I am through with him, I suggest you learn from his example,” Mora purred as his many eyes narrowed. 

A tentacle shot at Miraak only to be intercepted by Sahrotaar who clamped down on it. Mora let out an indignant shriek and tried to pry himself free, only for the dragon to rip the limb away entirely, flinging it back into the darkness of Mora’s abyss.

“So much for the Daedric Prince of Fate,” Valkari taunted, even as Mora’s rage continued to build. “You can’t even handle an overgrown lizard.”

“You have spirit, Valkari. I will take pleasure in breaking it.”

“I remember telling you that ‘Dragonborn’ would do.”

“I recall. But I have indulged you for long enough, I think.” He stared her down. “Now? Now I think it is time you learn to be obedient.”

He lashed out again, this time aiming for Valkari directly.

“IIZ SLEN NUZ!” she Shouted, and the tentacles were encased in ice. She surged forwards, drawing her blade and shattering the appendages. “Miraak, hurry it up!”

“I’m working as fast as I can,” he retorted. “I need more time!”

“Such a shame that time is the one thing you don’t have, Miraak,” Mora growled as he wrestled with Sahrotaar who thrashed viciously in his hold, spitting fire and ice at the Daedric Prince and slashing at him with claws and fangs.

Valkari ducked out of the path of another thrashing tentacle only for another to wrap itself around her arm, tugging her closer to the edge of the plateau, towards Hermaeus Mora. She pushed against it with her free hand only for another to grab that arm and she felt her skin burning in his grip.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!” 

Mora shrieked as the flames burned him and his grip slackened for a brief second only to tighten violently. A third wrapped around her neck and squeezed. Valkari gagged, flailing helplessly, but it became increasingly clear that attempting to escape was becoming increasingly futile. Her head was starting to spin, her vision swimming as Mora squeezed harder on her throat.

“DOVAHKIIN!” 

Sahrotaar launched himself at Mora, slashing at the central eye with his claws and Mora dropped Valkari. She hit the ground with a thud and gasped for breath, massaging her throat. She looked up just in time to see Mora grab Sahrotaar by the neck and snapped it like a twig.

“NO!”

He threw the dragon’s corpse to one side, his fury reaching its peak and then-!

“ **ENOUGH!** ”

Darkness consumed the plateau and a familiar presence filled Valkari up from inside. The fluid in the pool was throthing, shadows spilling from its centre of three talon-like spikes erupted from it, and from the depths emerged Nocturnal.

Miraak stumbled to one side, eyes wide as the Mistress of Night stepped from the pool, cloaked in her long black robes that hung around her like a shadow. 

Even Mora seemed stunned by the sudden turn of events, his attack halting and his rage seeming to quell in the presence of his fellow Prince.

Valkari, however, felt nothing but relief and she arranged herself into a kneeling position as Nocturnal approached. And that alone seemed to please her Prince greatly, as she touched a hand to the top of her head. Her fingers were cold, and Valkari felt a rush of energy flood her body.

“Rise, my Nightingale,” she commanded, and she did as she was told. Nocturnal offered her a rare smile before turning to Mora. “It has been many years since I last visited your realm, Hermaeus. Or has it been moments. I do so lose track…”

“Nocturnal,” Mora greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Do not play coy with me, Hermaeus. Do you honestly expect me to believe you were unaware of my claim to this mortal’s soul?” she said coldly, touching a hand to Valkari’s shoulder like a protective mother. 

From the pool emerged more shadowy creatures. Nightingale Sentinels, wolves and ravens from the Evergloam, and the Shrikes - tall daedra that resembled beautiful human women in dark robes.

“This mortal and I had a deal, Nocturnal,” Mora protested. “I expect it to be fulfilled.”

“It already has been,” said Nocturnal. “You promised my Nightingale the final Word of Power in exchange for the secrets of the Skaal. Secrets you now possess. Her business with you is concluded. Your claims to her soul hold no weight.”

“...Very well. It is as you say, Nocturnal. I humbly beg your forgiveness,” Mora said begrudgingly. “But first, I have my own Champion to deal with…”

His gaze turned to Miraak who glared back at Mora coldly.

“I don’t think so,” said Valkari, stepping forwards. 

“Oh? Is that so, Dragonborn? Miraak promised me his soul in exchange for my knowledge, and now the time has come for me to collect,” he hissed.

“Is that so? Because I believe that you owe me!” Valkari snapped. “You attempted to manipulate the terms of our bargain, made false claims on my soul, and offended my Prince by doing so. Perhaps it’s you who needs punishing.”

“My Nightingale makes a very valid point, Hermaeus,” Nocturnal purred. “Perhaps I should arrange the same fate for you as I did Jyggalag…”

Mora snarled.

“You play a dangerous game, Nocturnal…”

“As do you. Now what will it be? Will you release this mortal’s soul, or will you subject yourself to share Jyggalag’s fate?” she demanded curtly, giving Mora a very cold glare.

“Very well,” he snapped. “Take him and leave my realm. But beware Dragonborn, I will not forget this. You  _ will _ rue the day you slighted me.”

And with that he disappeared, undoubtedly to sulk in some far flung corner of his realm.

Valkari turned to Nocturnal and bowed her head.

“Thank you, my Lady.”

“Do not be so quick with your gratitude, Nightingale,” she said warningly. “Just because he cannot claim you, it does not mean that Hermaeus will not try to destroy you. And I will not be able to step in should he choose to do so. I trust you understand.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Very good. Now.” She turned to her creatures and waved her hand, and they disappeared back through the portal to Evergloam. “I will transport you and your fellow Dragonborn back to Tamriel. I would advise you to stay far away from these Black Books in future, Nightingale. Or any artefact of Mora’s, for that matter.”

She nodded and turned to Miraak who hobbled over.

“Are you ready to depart this realm, First and Last of the Dragon’s Blood?”

They both nodded, and Nocturnal waved a hand. Apocrypha fell away from beneath them and they tumbled into darkness.

[]

The burnt remains of Waking Dreams was buried away beneath the roots of a pine tree before Valkari and Miraak began the long trudge back to Tel Mithryn. Exhaustion wracked their bodies, and their injuries were beginning to make themselves known. 

It didn’t help that the weather was determined to be miserable with fierce winds that seemed determined to bowl them off of their feet as they staggered through the ash.

Finally, just as Tel Mithryn swam into view, Miraak collapsed face first. He was out cold.

“For fuck’s sake…” she groaned, draping one arm around her shoulders and hefting him up. 

It was harder than she would have liked, and how the hell was someone who spent thousands of years in Apocrypha so damned heavy? Surely there was nothing edible in that hellscape.

Still she carried on, half dragging him through the ash even as her own body protested, screaming for rest. She got lucky and made it as far as the courtyard when her own body gave out beneath her and everything went dark. The last thing she heard was a desperate but familiar yell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vokun Gein Siiv = Shadow One Find


	15. Best Served Cold

The first thing Valkari registered was the sound of someone humming somewhere off to her right. It wasn’t a tune she recognised. It was strangely melancholic, coloured with despair, yet with a drop of hope touching the notes. The voice humming it was rough and weary, but there was something comforting about the sound, and she found herself almost drifting off again just listening.

But then there came the tingles of sensation, fur tickling her fingertips, her damp hair clinging to her face, bone deep aching all through her body, and the stinging of half-healed wounds. She shifted and as she did so the bandages on her arms rubbed her wounds.

She hissed from the sharp pain that suddenly shot up her arm and the humming came to an abrupt halt. There were footsteps as someone approached and she felt the mattress - she realised she was indeed lying on a bed - sink as they sat beside her.

“Val?”

Teldryn.

Ever so slowly, Valkari opened her eyes, squinting up at him. The room was reasonably dim, lit by a small dish of candles sitting on the bedside table. She was back in Tel Mithryn, and right now Teldryn was looking down at her worriedly, brow furrowed.

“Val, can you hear me?” he said.

“Hard not to,” she murmured, moving to sit up, but he just took her by the shoulders and pressed her back down.

“You need to rest, you s’wit,” he said firmly. “What in Oblivion were you thinking, running off like that?”

She frowned up at him. It took a moment to realise there was more than just firmness in his voice. There was anger there too, bright like fire in his eyes.

“Had to stop Miraak-”

“Oh and so that’s why you brought him back with you?” he snapped. “That’s your idea of stopping some mind-warping lunatic?!”

Now her hold on consciousness was starting to solidify, she felt a tweak of anger and she glowered back at him as she forced herself into a sitting position, this time forcefully pushing his hands away from her as he tried to stop her.

“Oh, so I should have killed him and then been Hermaeus Mora’s prisoner for all eternity? Next time I want that to happen, I’ll take your advice on saving the world,” she sneered. “Besides, killing Miraak was exactly what Mora wanted. Now back off, I’m not in the mood.”

“Not in the mood? You were gone for a month Val!” he snapped, leaping to his feet. “I thought you were dead, and then you suddenly show up looking like you’ve already got one foot in the void! I’m supposed to, what, sit here and _not_ be royally pissed about that?! A whole month, Val!”

She sat there stunned. She’d been gone a whole month? She knew that time flowed differently in Oblivion compared to Tamriel, but surely not so much time could have passed whilst she was in Apocrypha. She was sure that she’d only been there a few hours. Surely it could have only been a few days at the very most, not a month.

“Well I hardly chose to be gone that long,” she retorted. “Oblivion doesn’t exactly strive to be convenient for mortals, remember?”

“That’s not the point!” He paced the room agitatedly, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea-? You left without so much as a word! I woke up to Elynea telling me you’d already been gone a week!”

“Well I’m not exactly sure why you’re pissed at me for that! To me it was a few hours, I can’t help it if Oblivion decides otherwise!”

“It pisses me off because-!” He halted himself, growling in frustration and shaking his head. “Whatever. Just… Whatever.”

And with that he stormed out. There was the distant slamming of a door and she was left quite alone, sitting in the bed with half a mind to go after him and give him a piece of her mind.

What, was she supposed to have waited for him to be lucid before going after Miraak? Did he expect to join her in Apocrypha? It was hardly possible. It seemed that only one person could use a Black Book at a time, and no two books opened to the same place. And besides Elynea had said it herself, it could well have been weeks before he was combat ready again, so even if there had been a way for him to come it would have meant yet another delay and honestly was there even any point in putting it off any longer?

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. A decision she immediately regretted as her legs wobbled dangerously beneath her. She fell back against the bed, sinking down again, cursing inwardly.

What did she care anyway? If he was going to take it personally, then that was his problem.

But then as she clambered back into bed and pulled the fur blanket back over herself, something of what he’d said echoed in her mind.

_‘I woke up to Elynea telling me you’d already been gone a week!’_

Did he not remember waking up the first time? And if he didn’t, did that mean…?

“Nocturnal’s tits…” she sighed.

He had no idea that she _knew_.

[]

If Valkari hadn’t woken up to spy Teldryn slumped on the nearby stool with his back propped against the wall and his chin resting on his chest as he dozed, she would have thought he’d gone back to Raven Rock. Maybe even left Solstheim altogether. There was certainly nothing to keep him there anymore. But even so he remained on guard, leaving the tower in the day to do whatever he did out in the ashlands and returning in the evening to continue his vigil. He said little, meaning he was still angry with her, but not enough to leave.

On the fifth day however, a bad ash storm had swept in and he decided against his ventures out into the wilds, still occupying his stool with a book in his lap. And it was on that day something suddenly occurred to Valkari.

“What happened to Miraak anyway?” she asked.

“Hm?” Teldryn glanced over, taking a moment to process her question. “Oh, he left.”

“Left? I have Elynea practically forbidding me from getting out of bed without supervision, and he can just waltz out whenever he wants?” she said incredulously.

“Well we think he left. All I know is one day he’s here, the next he’s gone,” he said, shrugging. “Besides he wasn’t hurt as badly as you. Aside from some exhaustion, he didn’t have much to recover from.”

“Yeah well he didn’t go toe-to-toe with Hermaeus Mora,” she grumbled.

He shook his head. “I _still_ can’t believe you did that.”

“Why? I can personally attest that Hermaeus Mora is a little bitch,” she said flatly.

“He’s a Daedric Prince, Val.”

“A little bitch of a Daedric Prince. Besides, it runs in the family,” she said matter-of-factly. “According to a friend of mine, I’ve got an ancestor who went to Coldharbour, fought Molag Bal, and _won_.”

There was a pause.

“Crazy really _does_ run in your family.”

She grinned smugly, settling back against the pillows.

Her family. With so much time to herself, she wondered how the kids were doing. What were the odds Runa had run off as soon as Valkari was gone? Was Sofie alright, waiting at home, wondering if she would come back? And how was Aventus dealing with suddenly being the responsible one, now having to look after his little sister whilst trying to keep Runa under control?

She couldn’t wait to get back and see them again. She’d missed them more than she cared to admit, and she’d feel more at ease knowing she would be there to keep them safe.

There would need to be one last trip to Raven Rock before she left, and she planned on having Odahviing fly her back. She was not stepping foot on another boat if she could help it. She had to say goodbye to Glover and Delvin, and see about replacing her travelling leathers. Knowing her luck, she would need them sooner rather than later.

Then it would be back to Skyrim, and hopefully it would be another ten years before anything else demanded her immediate attention. Hopefully.

[]

Valkari wasn’t that lucky. No sooner than she and Teldryn made the return trip to Raven Rock were they intercepted at the bulwark by Captain Veleth.

“Just the woman I was looking for,” he said relievedly. “I'm sorry to bother you, but Second Councilor Arano asked me to come find you. He said it's quite urgent.”

She sighed.

“Deal with one problem, and another comes up. What do you need?”

Veleth shook his head.

"All he wanted me to do is track you down and send you to him. Look, this is important... even more important than wiping out the ash spawn. Please, go speak to the second councilor as soon as possible. He asked me to tell you to wait for him on the road leading to the Earth Stone."

And with that he marched off. Probably to look for Adril and inform him the message had been passed along.

Valkari glanced up at Teldryn.

“Is this standard procedure for the Redoran Guard, or am I just that special?” she asked dryly.

Teldryn frowned and said, “no, but if he’s not putting the Redoran Guard on it, he must want it done quietly.”

“Well that’s my speciality. You coming?”

He shrugged, looking away. “Someone’s got to keep you from getting yourself killed.”

So they made their way through town, ducking into Glover’s shop momentarily to say hello. The moment Valkari told him that her armour had been ruined, he disappeared down into the cellar and arrived with a fresh set almost identical to the one Sapphire wore.

“Might want to try it on, just in case it needs any adjustments,” he said, but as it so happened it fit just perfectly.

He waved them goodbye as they left and they continued on their way down towards the Earth Stone. The path was largely deserted besides the two of them and for a long while they stood in silence before Teldryn sighed.

“Val, about the other day… I meant to say that I-”

“Ah, Dragonborn.” Adril came striding towards them, interrupting Teldryn who quickly shut his mouth. "Thank you for coming. After everything you've already done for Raven Rock, and indeed for all of Solstheim if half the stories I hear are true, I hate to ask for more but I can't risk Councilor Morvayn being killed."

Valkari raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you want to explain this to me,” she said, folding her arms. “You think someone is after the Councilor?”

"I don’t think it, I know it,” he said curtly. “The Ulen Family of House Hlaalu, a rival Great House, has placed a deathmark on the councilor's head. It's a private matter. Let's just say they seek revenge for the execution of one of their own, ordered by Councilor Morvayn himself. The problem is I don't have any solid proof that anyone from House Hlaalu is hidden among us… only my suspicions."

“And you want me to find this proof for you,” said Valkari.

“I do. I've received some information from my sources that there could be elements of House Hlaalu already in Raven Rock, but this is a small settlement. It's hard to accomplish anything in secret. If any of them are from House Hlaalu, I wouldn't be able to make a move without them knowing.” He gave Valkari a pointed look. “But you, an Outlander, even one of renown, could be able to move unseen.”

She resisted making a smart comment.

“Okay, I’ll bite. I take it you’ve got some sort of idea for where I should start?”

"I need you to start out by being my eyes and ears. Search Raven Rock and see if you can root out these traitors. The best place to start would be Geldis Sadri over at the Retching Netch Cornerclub. If he provides you any leads, check them out before bringing them to my attention. I can't afford to make any mistakes."

He glanced around, bowed his head, then made his way back into town. Valkari and Teldryn hung back a few minutes before following him.

“You were going to say something before Adril showed up?” she said.

But Teldryn just shook his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, we’ve got a job to do. It can wait.”

Valkari decided that she didn’t really like this sulky, withdrawn Teldryn compared to the Teldryn who didn’t hesitate to throw barbs back and forth with her, matching her wit for wit, and engaging in bouts of sarcasm. But he had a point. There was a job to do and money to be made before she went back home to Skyrim.

Geldis had settled right back into the Retching Netch, and aside from a couple new scars down the side of his face, he looked exactly the same as he had when Valkari first met him.

“Well look what the nix hound dragged in,” he chuckled. “Was starting to wonder if you two were ever going to show your faces in here again. How about some sujamma?”

“I wish, but we can’t really be doing with getting drunk right now,” Valkari said before leaning in closer over the bar, lowering her voice. “Adril said you might be able to help us with a problem. It’s about the Ulens.”

"Well, well. Adril's got himself some spies, does he? Azura knows he needs all the help he can get. He's been chasing the Ulens for years now."

"You think he's mistaken?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I just think he's going about this the wrong way."

"And you have a better idea?"

"Actually, I do. If you want to catch those slippery slaughterfish, you need to let them come to you. There's an Ulen Ancestral Tomb near the Temple. Someone's been leaving ash yam offerings on the altar inside. If you were to wait inside for whoever that is, I'm betting they'll have some of the answers you're looking for."

[]

Valkari went to the tomb alone with Teldryn waiting a little further down the road where he could keep the tomb’s door in sight without being too obvious.

The tomb was dark, but well kept, with a sort of shrine in the centre. It was a large stone basin filled with ash and bones, surrounded by lit candles and torches. Valkari found as shadowy a spot as she could find and drew the shadowcloak around herself. And so the wait began.

The minutes dragged by slowly, stretching into nearly a full hour before anyone appeared.

A dunmer woman with slicked back white hair entered the tomb. She wore a long green dress with a thick fur shawl was draped over her shoulders, and in her arms she carried several ash yams. With practiced ease, she lay the yams in the ashes, knelt before the shrine, and began to pray.

She didn’t notice a thing as Valkari slipped back outside to find Teldryn, whom she quickly described the woman to. He frowned.

“Tilisu Severin?” he said incredulously, shaking his head. “It can’t be…”

“I’m telling you what I saw, not who. If the only person you can think of who matches that description is Tilisu, then it must be her.”

“Well if it is, then this might be bigger than Adril thought,” he said. “The Severins have been here for about a decade, and they’ve been very generous in supplying the town with just about everything; coin, food, supplies. If that was all a ruse to get close to the Councilor then they’ve been playing the long game.”

“I wouldn't be surprised. You dunmer are very fond of letting your revenge schemes unfold over a decade or so,” she said flatly, thinking of Karliah who had done precisely that. At Teldryn’s confused look she just said, “long story. But for now, we should report back to Adril. I’m sure he’d be curious to know why Tilisu is leaving ash yams for the Ulens.”

[]

After running back and forth all over Solstheim, it was nice to finally get back to doing what she did best. Valkari listened for the familiar click of the tumblers clicking into place, and eased the door open.

Redoran houses had no windows and only one entrance, which is what made sneaking into them so difficult. As luck would have it though, none of the Severins were on the upper floor of the manor.

As predicted, Adril was pleased to finally have someone to aim his suspicions at, but without solid proof he refused to act. And kicking down the front door of Raven Rock’s wealthiest family wasn’t exactly an option. So here was Valkari, breaking and entering to find what they needed, with Teldryn keeping watch outside.

The manor was empty as far as she could tell. Aura Whisper didn’t reveal any other beings in the house besides herself which was surprising, considering the hour. Surely the Severins all ought to be home by now… Unless they were up to something.

Still Valkari knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was an opportunity to explore the house more thoroughly to find what she needed to prove the Severins guilty. So she started searching room by room. The most obvious place that such evidence would be hidden was a safe or lockbox, something not easily accessed. At least not for a master thief anyway.

And that was exactly what she found in the master bedroom, standing in a shadowy corner. Prying open the lock was child’s play and inside were several sacks of gold and an unsent letter, sealed shut with a wax seal that bore a set of weighing scales. She opened it, taking care not to break the seal.

_Dear Councilor Saldin,_

_In a manner of days I believe we'll be ready. Our forces hidden within Ashfallow Citadel have been training night and day, ready to strike when we give the signal. With Captain Veleth distracted by the ash spawn attacks, the timing seems perfect. I've waited nearly a decade to exact my revenge upon Lleril Morvayn for the death of my ancestor and I long for the moment my blade will be drawn across his throat. The next letter you'll receive from me will include his head in a sack. Display it proudly in the halls of House Hlaalu, brother._

_Vendil Ulen_

Now _that_ was damning.

[]

Raven Rock was on high alert when Valkari and Teldryn left, the Redoran Guard preparing for any signs of an oncoming assault whilst Captain Veleth watched over Councilor Morvayn personally. The Severins - in reality, the Ulens - had vanished and no one had been able to find them. Undoubtedly they were preparing to strike.

Ashfallow Citadel suited its name, as it was half-buried in the stuff. The wind whistled eerily through the ash-covered turrets, and the darkened sky did little to improve things. The whole place felt… off.

“LAAS YAH NIR!”

Two figures glowed in her vision, ducked out of sight on either side of the archway leading into the ruin’s courtyard. Not far from them lay two corpses. The guardsmen sent by Adril that they were supposed to assist.

“Shit,” hissed Teldryn when he spotted them. “See anything?”

“Two up ahead. Not sure we’ll be able to sneak up on them though,” she whispered. “They’re probably part of the Hlaalu’s forces though.”

“It doesn’t make any sense though,” he replied. “If House Hlaalu did have soldiers on Solstheim and they got caught, the consequences for them would be catastrophic.”

“Well either they’re too cocky for their own good, or they’re up to something.”

“With the Hlaalu, it could be either.”

“Well we won’t find out by sitting here. We should-”

She heard ash shift under boot and she darted out of reach just in time as the assassin leapt out at her. Teldryn pulled out a dagger and quickly rammed it through the assassin’s throat where they flailed and spluttered before falling still.

As Teldryn threw the corpse to the ground, Valkari glanced around. Both of the figures from the archway were gone. If their attacker was the first, then the second was close by.

“Val!”

She spun on her heel, raising her bow to parry the blow away before reaching for her own dagger and slotting it neatly between the assassin’s ribs. The air seemed to go out of them before they crumpled to the ground dead.

With the immediate danger past, she got a better look at them. They were dressed in dark leathers with chitin plating with a beetle like symbol engraved on the chest.

“Morag Tong,” Teldryn said grimly.

“So much for being disbanded,” Valkari muttered, then added at Teldryn’s quizzical look, “I have a colleague who used to be part of the Tong.”

“Of course you do.” He looked back around to Ashfallow. “What’s the betting we’re going to find the Ulens in there with even more of them?”

Valkari nocked an arrow.

“I wouldn’t put my money on anything else,” she said, making her way inside.

And she would be right to. More assassins were waiting inside, apparently in the midst of preparing for their attack on Raven Rock. It was clever, really. Use the Tong rather than House Hlaalu’s own forces. If things went sideways, the Hlaalu could always deny direct involvement and pin it all on the Ulens.

As it was, these assassins seemed to fall a little short of the legendarily lethal, and completely legal, league of killers that the history books described. Maybe it was just because Valkari and Teldryn were both incredibly skilled, but they seemed a little too easy to kill really. Some could even be described as over-eager, all but throwing themselves headlong into the fray without pausing for thought. Valkari wasn’t surprised - remorseful perhaps, but not surprised - to pull down one’s cowl to find a relatively young looking mer underneath.

And she wasn’t the only one.

“These are Initiates,” Teldryn pointed out grimly. “Just a bunch of idiots dressing the part.”

“Then let’s find Vendil and end this,” said Valkari, straightening up. “There’s a chamber at the end of the hall. I’m willing to bet that that’s where we find them.”

So they continued down the hall to the end, peering through the barred door into the room beyond. Tilisu and her daughter, Mirri, were standing off to one side in chitin armour, Mirri sharpening her knives, whilst the family patriarch, Vendil, seemed to be in the middle of an argument with another, much older mer dressed in resplendent robes complete with the Morag Tong insignia stamped on his chest. Standing at his side was another assassin in armour similar to the others in the ruins with their hands folded behind their back.

“The Tong and I struck an accord-!”

“You made contact with some kagouti-headed Initiates who, in their rash desire for glory, took your offer,” interrupted the older mer. “That hardly constitutes a writ. Especially not one I would have sanctioned.”

“Bah! You think yourself so mighty, Ioreth, when your organisation scurries like rats in search of a meal!” Vendil spat. “After the Red Year, the Morag Tong can hardly afford-”

“To further destabilise our own standing,” Ioreth interrupted again, his tone cool and even, dangerously so. “House Redoran despises the Tong and only barely tolerates our existence. I can’t exactly afford to endanger what is left. Nor will I allow my Initiates to be endangered by your need for vengeance. If you wish to contract our services, you will do so in the accepted manner and not at the whims of yourself and idiot children.”

“Sheogorath’s beard,” murmured Teldryn. “Vendil was stupid enough to cross the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong?”

“If the Tong is disbanded, how do they still have a Grandmaster?” Valkari whispered.

“There’s always been rumours that the Tong continued to operate throughout Morrowind,” he replied. “Not that anyone could prove it at least. They became more secretive than ever after what happened to Vvardenfell.”

“Sounds like they’re no friends of the Ulens then,” she murmured. “That might just work for us.”

Before Teldryn could stop her, she stepped into the room and all eyes turned in her direction. The Ulens all looked shocked, Vendil’s eyes widening, whilst Ioreth just stared with mild interest.

“If I’d known that those assassins back there were a bunch of idiot children, I might have taken a bit more care whilst looking for you, Vendil Ulen,” she said, and she could swear she heard Teldryn curse behind her. She just smirked.

“ _You_!” Vendil spat, pointing at her. “What are you doing here, Outlander?”

“I thought it was obvious that she was here about your plans to kill Councilor Morvayn, Vendil,” Ioreth said plainly before turning to Valkari. “You killed my Initiates then? I suppose if they were stupid enough to follow along with Vendil’s plans, they wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid engaging a foe clearly more skilled than them.”

He shook his head.

“The Morag Tong has no quarrel with you, Dragonborn. And I certainly have no wish to die on this s’wit’s behalf.” He threw Vendil a dirty look. “If I may, I will take whatever may remain of my idiot Initiates and return to the mainland.”

“I’m just here for these three,” said Valkari, gesturing to the Ulens. “Children will do stupid things, after all.”

“I wish I wasn’t so familiar with that fact,” he sighed before he turned to the assassin standing at his side. “Find whoever remains and inform them that they are to Blacklight immediately, and that the longer they dawdle, the more time they can spend tending to my nix hounds.”

The assassin bowed and scurried past Valkari and back through the hallway.

“Now see here, Drals!” Vendil snarled. “I will _not_ be denied what was promised me!”

“They are _my_ Initiates, Vendil,” Ioreth said coldly. “I decide who they wield their blades for and that is the end of it.”

“Why you-!”

Vendil reached for a blade, but before it even left its sheath there was a flash of silver and a red line opened over his neck. There was a dagger in Ioreth’s hand all of a sudden and it was dripping with blood.

Ioreth stepped back as Vendil collapsed forwards, one hand to his throat, the other thrown out to catch himself. But he crumpled regardless, falling to the floor, blood dribbling from his lips and gushing from the wound in his neck.

Calm as you like, Ioreth wiped the blade on a cloth before tucking it back into his sleeve and turning to Tilisu and Mirri.

“Now, if you two would prefer death to imprisonment, you will have to take it up with the Dragonborn here,” he said dryly. “I have more important matters to attend to.”

The two women scowled at him but made no moves to attack. Clearly they possessed better control than Vendil and simply watched the Grandmaster depart. When he was clear of the room, however, they fixed their eyes on Valkari.

“Ten years,” Tilisu whispered hoarsely. “Ten years of planning _ruined_ , because of you!”

She was trembling from head to toe, eyes filled with fury as she lunged.

“FOR HOUSE HLAALU!” she shrieked, slashing with daggers.

“FUS RO DAH!”

Tilisu was thrown violently back across the room, crashing into the back wall of the chamber with a sickening crack whilst Mirri had disappeared from view altogether. Teldryn quickly blocked the door, blade drawn.

Tilisu still hadn’t gotten back up and she wasn’t moving.

“You just love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?” he said, throwing a glance in Valkari’s direction.

“Is there even any point in denying it?” she said cheekily, spotting Mirri out of the corner of her eye. She lifted her bow and fired, catching the mer in her shoulder.

Mirri stumbled but remained on her feet, clutching her wound.

“Please, spare me,” she said suddenly, throwing up her free hand. “I had nothing to do with this! My mother and father! They made me, said they’d kill me if I didn’t help them!”

Valkari cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at Teldryn. He copied to look but lowered his blade, stepping forwards. Almost immediately Mirri ran to him, throwing herself into his chest and Nocturnal’s arse, Valkari couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose in disgust. Something inside her was very displeased.

“You’re Sero? You work for the Redoran guard? You have to tell them I didn’t want to help them,” she pleaded, batting her eyelashes and Valkari really just wanted to shoot her, even if she was telling the truth.

Teldryn, however, seemed unaffected by her pleas.

“Then why didn’t you come to the Redoran Guard? Did you think we wouldn’t have protected you?”

“I didn’t think you could! They threatened me with all sorts of horrible things, said House Hlaalu would do worse than just kill me if I exposed them!” she cried. “Please, I’m begging you!”

But he just looked down at her coldly.

“You should know better than to bluff, Mirri. You were always terrible at it,” he said coldly. He took her wrists and peeled her away. “I advise you don’t try to pull it on the Redoran Guard when we get back to Raven Rock.”

For a moment she looked stunned, mouth hanging open slightly. Then she snarled and snatched her hand away from him, reaching for the dagger on her belt.

“Then die, you Redoran lackey-!”

The arrow pierced her through the neck before she could lift her blade and she fell sideways. Dead.

“So. _I’m_ the only one who loves hearing the sound of their own voice?” Valkari remarked, shouldering her bow.

Teldryn shrugged. “What can I say? It was fun to see you get jealous.”

She blinked, frowning.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He just grinned and walked towards her.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you angrier than when she put her hands on me,” he said, smirking. “What’s the matter, Red? Did that get under your skin?”

“Oh grow up,” she snapped despite the fact she could feel her face heating up.

“Come on, admit it. You _like_ me,” he teased.

“Oh, like how you love me?” There was a streak of wicked satisfaction when she saw him falter, his eyes going wide. “And don’t even bother denying it, because you _told_ me. When you first woke up after Nchardak.”

He stuttered, his face suddenly flushing dark grey.

“I-”

She stepped closer to him, lip curling.

“Well, Swordsman. Did you mean it, or was it an antidote-induced delusion?”

Words failed him as he lifted a hand, fingertips barely grazing over her cheek as he stared down at her. He swallowed.

“Would it bother you if I did mean it?” he asked quietly, not moving his gaze from her.

“I-” She paused, very aware of her heart pounding painfully in her chest. “I don’t know. Would it bother you if I told you I have three kids waiting for me back home?”

He blinked, eyes flickering down briefly before returning to her face.

“Their father isn’t still-”

“They’re adopted.”

“Ah. Then no.” His other hand was tracing over her wrist and god they were so close now that Valkari felt like her heart might burst free from her chest. “No, I don’t think it does.”

“Good. That’s… good.”

She had no idea what to do next. It had been years since she’d last done anything like this, how was she supposed to know? Fortunately, Teldryn seemed to have some idea.

“And would it bother you if I kissed you?” he asked.

She hesitated only for a split second before reaching up to press her lips to his. He kissed back, his hand shifting to cradle the back of her head and the other moving around her waist, holding her close whilst she wrapped her arms around his neck.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other close, only parting when the need for air intervened. Valkari’s heart was still pounding painfully in her chest and her face was flushed, but she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face as she looked up at Teldryn, who beamed back. That alone made him look almost a hundred years younger and Divines, she might just _pay_ to see him smile like that again.

And when he touched his forehead to her’s, she said, “You know, I don’t think it would.”

[]

“So we can’t just take get Geilund to take us back on his ship because…?” Teldryn groaned.

“Because I promised myself I’d never get back on another blasted boat in my life if I could help it,” she said dryly. “Besides, flying is faster and far more fun.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve done it before.”

Councilor Morvayn and Adril had been more than pleased to have the Ulen situation resolved. Whilst they were certain that House Hlaalu would never stop its attempts to weaken House Redoran’s influence, the immediate danger had passed. And Morvayn had been - in his mind, anyway - more than generous with his reward.

_"What you've done for me... for all of Raven Rock... goes far beyond what I would have expected from a traveler to our town. For this, you have my deepest gratitude. I can offer no higher reward than official membership within House Redoran itself, and rights of ownership to Severin Manor."_

Teldryn had laughed at her the whole time until she mentioned they’d be returning to Skyrim on dragon back, and now they were standing on the coast waiting for Odahviing to arrive.

“If I throw up, I am going to aim directly for your hair,” he said grumpily, hands in his pockets.

“I grew up in a sewer, Tel,” she laughed. “I’ve had worse things in it.”

“Remind me how I fell in love with you again?”

“Because you clearly have incredible taste. Or horrible taste, depends on who you ask.”

He shook his head but didn’t remove the arm he kept around her waist as a black shape appeared on the horizon, growing larger as it drew closer. Red scales dazzled in the muffled sunlight and as Odahviing swooped in, he kicked up clouds of ash and dust.

“Dragonborn, are you ready to depart?” he rumbled.

“More than ready,” she said, leading Teldryn forwards by the wrist. “Now come on, Swordsman. Time to see how big a baby you really are.”

He smirked, clearly taking it as a challenge.

“Oh, it is _on_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! This chapter did not go as planned, so please blame Val and Tel for that because they are monsters who hijacked the story for their own sakes XD
> 
> Thank you so much for your support, particularly to Andauril, CaptainoftheFallen and Toorlokviing!! Your comments have been keeping me going and have inspired me to keep updating, you guys are awesome!! <3
> 
> Now onto the Dawnguard!!


End file.
